


Year One

by IfCujoWereSappho



Series: Trajectory [1]
Category: Gakuen Heaven
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Slow Burn, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfCujoWereSappho/pseuds/IfCujoWereSappho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinomiya and Iwai 2008-2009</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. .

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Heaven or any recognizable characters,  
> SPRAY/Higuri Yuu do.
> 
> Non/Self-Beta'd: all mistakes, bad writing and OOCness are mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a major thank you to [Rahenna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahenna),  
> without her I probably wouldn't have done this

Iwai Takuto gotten through the entrance ceremony and the first week alright, even having to introduce himself to his class like all of his classmates. He didn’t need much though. He had a campus map, linens and his art supplies. He even had freedom away from “home.”

 

On his first morning, he had a voicemail from his mother. He ignored it but knew he’d end up checking later. As he got himself ready, he remembered and regretted how he’d awoken with the sound of his phone ringing but burrowed under his covers and went back to sleep. It was too late now, he knew, as he pulled on his uniform, hands fumbling at the tie he had resigned to wearing, even if his tying methods were a bit off.

 

 _No time for breakfast_ , he figured, glancing at the hour. If he didn’t hurry, he would be late for his first class. His stomach would complain later, especially as he’d skipped dinner in favour of studying up what he could, last night. He was a decent student, but he would have to work hard and diligently if he wanted to keep those of his classes which were higher than regular. He worried too much over keeping his grades in shape to be able to eat sometimes. Someone had pointed out once that his eating habits weren’t optimal, that was before they had dropped to quite the extent they were presently, but he had other things to worry about. That person hadn’t turned out as trustworthy as he thought anyway.

 

That first day, all during introductions he tried hard to pay attention to everyone. He felt gazes boring into him, overly conscious of everyone and replaying his actions over and over, bringing new waves of nausea each time. Finally, the strong presences of two boys, one of them, the bright spirited and boisterous Niwa Tetsuya jolted Iwai out of his ad nauseam. Shining mist coloured eyes, under a curtain of wild and rich brown spiky hair. On the surface, Niwa seemed uncontainable, loud, maybe even obnoxious. But even as he spoke Iwai noticed those around him falling under a charisma that seemed to pool and spread from this boy. For a moment, it was not a classroom but a court of subjects under the eyes of their king.

  
After Niwa a Nakajima Hideaki introduced himself and a curtain of cold azure like his eyes and neat hair blanketed the class. The bespectacled boy was a similarly strong and attention commanding presence. Something about his eyes, Iwai thought, chased away the the loud warm that Niwa had left the class with. Iwai felt the coldness settle in his stomach, spreading as Nakajima’s eyes met his own golden hazel mix. If he had two words for Nakajima they would be _cold_ and _intimidating_. Iwai looked down at his desk quickly.

 

The cold inside of him settled like a stone, he bit his lip and tried to breathe slowly. Surely they weren’t all still looking at him right? No, no they were paying attention as the rest of the class introduced themselves. Oh no, _I’ve missed...how many have I missed_? he gasped internally. He looked up to survey the class. Someone else was standing and speaking...now bowing and sitting.

 _Did I miss everyone else?_ he started to panic before he heard another chair move behind him.

 

He turned his head and his own eyes widened as they fell upon a set of warm violet. Oh how deep they were, framed by raven coloured bangs, long eyebrows. The boy’s voice was sure and comforting, even if Iwai didn’t know what he said. He was too busy watching the glint in those eyes, the turn at the corners of that mouth, the strong jaw, throat vanishing into a neatly pressed shirt and perfectly straight tie. He bit his lip again. He felt _warm_ again. The stone in his stomach had morphed into a featherlight feeling. He had to pull his eyes away when the boy sat, grateful to have to turn in another direction entirely to look at the next student.

 

After choosing pieces of a dinner that he could take to his room to escape the crowd, Iwai snuck out of the cafeteria. Alone in his room he set the small pile of food on his desk and resigned himself to checking his messages. Well, message.

 

“Takuto, be a good boy and pay attention on your first day. Sorry I couldn’t be there”

( _You mean you didn’t remember, that’s okay._ )

“to see you off. Let me know what you’re working on and don’t forget to call,”

( _I didn’t and won’t forget you, mama._ )

“....” End  Of Message.

( _I love you too._ )

 

On the first morning of classes, Shinomiya Koji had gotten up early, dressed early and gotten to the cafeteria as soon as it opened. He enjoyed the sparseness for a while, the time to himself before the rush of his day began. He finished in a mannerly quickness and left just as most other students arrived, with plenty of time to stroll leisurely to his first class.

 

He spent his school day intent on taking in class agendas and classmates. It was certainly interesting, Intermediate biology would pose far more relevant things for him to learn as an aspiring physician than his middle school had bothered to teach. His history class also posed a good deal of potential interest, he thought, looking over the itinerary.

 

He recognized a boy with cold eyes and an intimidating demeanor amongst his classmates. The boy, Nakajima, seemed known as a recent youth-martial arts champion and his classmates consistently looked at him with a mix of wariness and respect. He took in the cold boy with polite distance in his scrutinization. Likewise, he took in the charismatic Niwa Tetsuya, also a martial artist, the main difference being his warm disposition. He did not feel as instantly on guard when Niwa made his presence known to the class, but he did take some energy to follow with the space his natural aura filled.

 

Shinomiya hadn’t expected much space to himself the rest of that day and that was fine. The grounds were crowded as kids left class building towards the cafeteria. He suspected that not everyone had lunch at once, but hadn’t been prepared for how many kids crowded the cafeteria, given the rather small student body.

He was by no means anti-social, but unlike some of the freshmen who seemed to already be already forming acquaintanceships, he had kept himself in a business-like manner so far. So when someone called out from behind him, he was ready to accept socialization.

 

“You’re Shinomiya Koji, right?” a boy asked. He pushed his dark bangs out of darker eyes. “I’m Hanabusa Hisoka,” then he gestured to the slightly skinnier boy next to him, “and this is Itori Akio. We’re from the archery club.”

Shinomiya smiled in anticipation of where this was going. In return, Hanabusa smiled back in a way that his own smile echoed earnestly.

He eyed the red and the blue ties, “would you care to sit, senpais?” he asked politely.

Itori smirked as they sat across from him. “I guess you know why we’re here?”

“Well I was hoping to join the archery club myself,” Shinomiya said. “Does this mean you found me first?”

“Aren’t you sharp?” Itori said.

“Itori,” Hanabusa elbowed him softly. “Be gentle to the first years, you’re their senior now.”

He turned to Shinomiya, “of course we want you, Shinomiya-kun. We just had to seek out the boy who’s been holding a national ranking for years now. Would you honour us?”

Shinomiya flushed just a bit, he wasn’t shy, but the instant recognition wasn’t something he’d expected.

“I’m flattered. Certainly,” he said.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, huh Hana-senpai?” Itori teased. “Well you’re not running things yet kid,” he added to Shinomiya, maintaining his smirk. “But I’ll admit you’re skilled. So why don’t you come to the range after classes?” he invited. Okay, so maybe for someone who had an obviously dyed red mop of hair that he couldn’t bother to brush, Itori could be civil and friendly.

 

Thoughts of archery club consumed Shinomiya through the rest of his day. He had an immediate respect for the kind geniality of Hanabusa, but wasn’t sure what to make as a first impression of Itori. He was attentive to the rest of his classes but the thought of the archery range, holding a bow and proving himself to his senpais was eagerly nagging at his mind. He was only a tad nervous as he headed to the meet the club, having made sure to bring his homework and necessities back to his room first. His hands clenched, his heart beat fast, his smile never faltered as he found himself at his uncrowded destination.

 

“Hey! Look who it is!” a loud voice called. The warmth in that voice also showed in Hanabusa’s eyes, his toothy grin wide as he waved him over. “We’re only just gathering, so not everyone is here yet.”  
“Shinomiya,” Itori acknowledged, Shinomiya looked over at him. He was cleaned up now, in his archery robe, hair tidy and pulled back in a ponytail, no longer framing his face and hanging down to his chin.

“You ready to show off for us, freshman?”

Shinomiya met his challenging grin with a polite dip of his head, but looked up at Hanabusa’s laugh.

“More like we want to show _you_ off.”

He flushed at the praise and tried to laugh it off.

 

They waited for the rest of the club to assemble before Hanabusa introduced him and set him up with a bow and arrows before a target. He was unsure if they’re underestimating him or trying to be gentle with the ease of how he’s set up. The target wasn’t far, but it also wasn’t his style to show off more than necessary, so he politely sank three arrows in the centre ring of the target before deciding not to make a performance of it. He turned around, set his supplies down and bowed. The other archers just stared at him, he was ready to escape the sights set on him and retrieve the arrows he’s shot when an abrupt clapping started. First just Hanabusa, but when the upperclassman cheered the others join, praising him as though they haven’t seen a freshman shoot so perfectly in a row before.

 

“Well done!” Hanabusa beamed. “See,” he turned to the other archers, “I told you we _must_ have him!”

One of the others shrugged but smiled. “What the Captain wants, Captain will charm someone into getting.”

Shinomiya blinked, turns to look at Hanabusa with an expression of surprise.

“Captain?” he said. “You didn’t mention that.”

“We didn’t want to make you feel obligated,” Hanabusa’s smile turned impish. He looked at Shinomiya from under his bangs. “So will you have us?”

 

Evening had set in by the time he came back from a rousing (and immediately afterwards, exhausting) dinner with his new club. Shinomiya checked his phone, eyeing the time. It wasn’t quite 8pm, it would still be acceptable to call. He exhaled, smiled, took a moment to catalogue and appreciate his day so that he could recite it, before making a long distance call to Hiroshima.

 

“Nii-chan?!” came the answering voice.

“Ryou-chan...”

“We miss you so much already! What is the school like? How was your first day?” the boy on the other end ran off a long list of questions that he answered with a laugh and a collection of whatever he found relevant or thought his brother might find interesting.

 

“Well of course they were impressed with you,!” the younger voice chirped. “You’re a champion, when- oh, mom and dad wanna say hi too...” a long pause. “We’re going to all gather around and put you on speaker. I guess I’ve been hogging you,” an unpressed giggle.

“That’ll be good too, I can’t wait to say hello to everyone else,” Shinomiya said.

“You’ll have to tell all about your day all over again. I should have recorded Nii-chan the first time.”  
“Well it’s a good thing it’s been a good day then.”

 

Over the first few weeks, Shinomiya found it easy to get into the swing of  things. He was making friends, not just in the archery club (though spending a fair amount of free time with them did help his social standing.) He felt confident as he adjusted to his daily routines, his classmates. He worked hard and saw recognition in the grades of his first projects, in the respect his peers seemed to show him. During afternoon or even practice, he was aware of the eyes on him. Everyone seem impressed by the youth who shot like the champion he was. He could feel expectation and maybe even the respect he was trying to earn from his senpais.

 

The latter part wasn’t proving difficult. Just by his reputation, it seemed, the rest of the club showed their respect for him as an archer. Hanabusa especially seemed fond of him. He’d take frequent opportunity to seek him out, help him learn his way around campus, show him the ropes. A good deal of the time where Hanabusa and Shinomiya were, Itori wasn’t far. They seemed to be forming their own little clique, at least on occasion. It wasn’t an exclusive one, and he didn’t understand yet how Itori and the Captain got along so well, given the Captain’s cheery enthusiasm versus Itori’s smirk which always seemed to question and challenge. Not to mention they were each of different years. Still, when faced with Hanabusa’s gentle, cheerful smiles, no one bothered to question it.

 

Shinomiya started to feel something else, some other gaze maybe, one that was not of another archer. He arrived before practice started one day to find only Hanabusa and a student he didn’t yet recognize setting up in the archery range. The other boy was just about Hanabusa’s height (were _all_ of the seniors tall, or did he just think that because he wasn’t finished growing?) he had a mop of pale blonde hair, shaggier than Itori’s, it even reminded him of Hanabusa’s own style (when not brushed back). Similar bangs too, though the blond was longer. The boy echoed Hanabusa’s bright smile right back at him and Shinomiya approached in time to hear a singsong laugh he recognized at the Captain’s.

 

“Oh! Shinomiya!” Hanabusa waved him over.  “I want you to meet Aoi-”

The blond stood and held out a hand, “everyone just calls me Crash,” he grinned.

His smile was definitely like Hanabusa’s.

“Crash?” he echoed.

“Oh well you know,” the boy looked at him with a pretend embarrassment, “you run into hurdles hard enough on the track, get a foot stuck in one and go flying far enough... and they’ll never let you forget. Not even two years later.”

“Aoi’s on the track team,” Hanabusa clarified. “And swim team. My athletic star,” Hanabusa winked at him.

That fit, what with the sports shorts and sleeveless hoodie “Crash” sported.

“So you’re really just a freshman?” Crash asked. “I thought some old legend had showed up the way Hana-chan talks about you.”

Shinomiya looked from Crash to Hanabusa, coloring a bit in embarrassment. “I’m...flattered,” he managed.

Hanabusa just patted Shinomiya on the back and flicked his wrist in mock dismissiveness at Crash.

“Aoi has practice to get too soon, right? The track isn’t exactly close to here, go, go.”

Crash grinned at them again and jogged off without another word.

“Aoi was helping me set up before anyone else arrived,” Hanabusa explained. “He’s great. I’m lucky.”

  
Before even the other archers had assembled, Shinomiya had a peculiar feeling. It was mild, not terribly nagging and since he couldn’t name it, he dismissed it.


	2. ..

The setting for which Iwai had given up on ignoring whatever it was he loved about Shinomiya Koji, could not have been more scenic. The weather was warm with a very mild breeze across a campus of students who all seemed to be excited for the weekend to begin. The sky above was clear and the sun buffered by a scattering of clouds. He had been able to admit to himself the intensity of (whatever feeling this was) when he’d created a pile of sketches of those eyes, the ones in colour shaded in meshes of indigo and soft purples.

 

When rumors circulated that the archery club snapped Shinomiya up  _ fast _ , it suddenly occurred to Iwai to see what an internet search might yield. He found out quickly that Shinomiya Koji, a boy from Hiroshima, had ranked in the national archery finals multiple years in a row.

 

Iwai walked closer to the archery range, stopping near the top of the hill to its side. He daren’t get too close in case someone noticed him. He’d never seen one up close and now he was curious. But he’d have to leave soon he needed to head back to his room to study if he intended to keep up with Intermediate biology. He stepped a bit closer, noticing that is was empty. Good. That might mean this was a good time to look at it. Better yet, the flat area above the plateau of the range was a lovely lawn with even a couple picnic tables. This could even be a nice place to study if it was usually empty around now.

 

The next day, and the next, he returned to the blessedly empty spot. While sometimes other kids would appear with work materials, just as he’d taken to doing, it seemed they were few and far between as his week went on. He could appreciate the archery range in its emptiness, the lawn and its flora, and study at a table, or bench or under a tree. Sunlight set in warm rays over the campus, Iwai breathed in and gave a long exhale as he unbent his head from over a textbook. He checked his phone for the time and began to gather his materials. Despite the high sun, it was much latter than he’d planned to sit here. He didn’t need a timekeeper to tell him that, what with the full archery club gathered and set in a deep focus of their practice. Usually, he left around the time most of them assembled, but he’d taken a bit to notice them setting up once or twice.

 

He surveyed the range out of the corner of his eye, not unusual as he started to walk by. Today he was unable to pass without much thought though. He turned his head and his heart sank and lept all in one motion. In perfect form (at least, for all he knew and cared), under a shining sunray stood Shinomiya Koji. 

 

Poised, armed with bow and arrow, he sank a shot into his target. The action itself lasted only mere seconds, but Iwai watched it in slow-motion. Beads of sweat forming over those long, curved brows, trickling to the side of his fearsome gaze, over his strong jaw and dropping into the dip between his collar bones. The moment was over far too quickly, Iwai snapped his attention away and hurried off.

 

He didn’t stay away though. Now that he had seen Shinomiya in all his artform glory, (for truly, he made archery into an art, Iwai thought,) what need was there to avoid him as long as he stayed out of the way?

It wasn’t as though Iwai sought him out, or even sought out more information. He just loved to watch Shinomiya’s beautiful stance and beautiful eyes in laser focus. Generally, he kept a respectful distance, not allowing himself to think he actually  _ knew _ Shinomiya. No, he just thought Shinomiya was stunning.    
Artists like beauty. 

 

The other archers were interesting too.nTheir expressions, stances, even their uniforms. Iwai liked to compare the various ways they held themselves, both when shooting and not, and the looks they’d get when 

aiming. Maybe to most people it all looked about the same, but as a visual artist, he noticed little subtleties in how they differentiated from each other. The boy with a short red ponytail had a completely different manner of focus when he stood to shoot than he did at any other point, like sitting back to watch the others or cleaning up at the end of practice. All parts of him become an archer. 

 

Iwai supposed this much was true of all the archers he saw. But the tall boy with the everlasting smiles seemed to assume a different kind of confidence rather than the redhead who took on the body language of dead-set determination even if he looked calm.

 

When it came to his stance, Iwai didn’t have proper ideas to describe him. His brain stuttered, his hand would stop over whatever he was sketching, which lately had been the range and archers. Sometimes it was their silhouetted stances, sometimes actual faces or hair styles or uniform robes. A good deal of his sketches after he had taken to sitting near the archery range, were of Shinomiya himself. Be they full body, upper body, even silhouettes of his stance or his face, simply from memory because Iwai was too far to see such details, clearly, the artist had to admit to himself, he had a particular subject to his sketches.

 

“Hey!” 

All of the sudden a rough voice shook him out of his thoughts. Iwai looked up, jumping at the redheaded archer who towered over him. He looked annoyed as he took in the artist cowering beneath him. 

“You out of it or something? I called you,” Itori said. If a tone were an eye-roll, it would describe how he spoke.

“S-sorry,” Iwai said.

“You been sitting here watching us for how long now?” Itori asked.

“Um, s-sorry, I-” Iwai stuttered.

Whether or not it was Itori’s intention, he’d scared the crap out of the young artist-slash-spy.

“Oiiii, Itoriii, what are you doing to that kid?” a blessed interruption came in the form of Hanabusa.

“ _ Itori? _ ” Iwai mumbled to himself. Not a name he wanted to hear again.   
A smiling face replaced Itori’s scowl in Iwai’s attention. He still cowered in their shadows but he suddenly felt less afraid. At least until both of the archer’s sights fell upon his sketch. A profile of Koji.

Hanabusa’s widened in wonder. “Oooh, you’re good. Are you a friend of Shinomiya?”

Before he could answer, Itori turned over his shoulder.  “Oi! Shinomiya!” he yelled. 

“This yours?” indicating the artist as he waved Shinomiya over.

 

Iwai’s eyes went even wider.  _ No, no, no...not Shinomiya _ .

“I’m...I’m not,” he tried. 

Too late. He hadn’t managed to form words before Shinomiya joined them.

“What’s going on?” he asked. At least he seemed confused too.

“You friend here is a talented artist,” Hanabusa grinned. 

Shinomiya looked from Hanabusa to Itori to Iwai. 

“Huh?” hardly his usual polite speech but he was terribly unsure what was going on right then.

 

“I’m just his classmate!” Iwai blurted out. “Shinomiya doesn’t know me really,” the artist looked a sad mix of desperate and crestfallen at his own words.

“Iwai?” Shinomiya said. 

Iwai looked up at him, surprised and doe-eyed. He was still huddled around himself, shoulders slumped, limbs locked tight. Like some small creature to be picked up and protected. 

“You’re Iwai Takuto right?” he asked, extending a hand to help Iwai stand up. 

Hazel doe-eyes locked with his, with one arm Iwai clutched his now closed sketchbook tightly but extended the other to fit his hand in Shinomiya’s. Once on his feet he looked down again. 

“I’m really sorry,” he said. 

“Ne? What for?” Hanabusa prompted. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Except maybe stalking,” Itori said, accompanied by an actual eyeroll. 

Before he could flee in his nervousness, Hanabusa elbowed Itori. “Leave the poor kid alone.”

“It...it wasn’t just...I drew a lot of you guys,” Iwai mumbled. He flipped through his book, reluctantly but determined to get himself out of this mess, and showed them a few sketches of relatively featureless archers in stances, sometimes silhouettes and one identifiable as Hanabusa and Itori aiming side by side.

 

“Oh I like that one of us!” Hanabusa cheered.

Even Itori eyed it without contempt. 

“You _are_ _really good_ ,” Hanabusa declared. “Are you in the art club?”

“N-no, I’m just, I just like art,” he sighed, giving up and acknowledging his total inability to socialize like this. 

_ I’m so awkward _ .

“How long have you just been sitting there?” Hanabusa asked gently. 

“I...I don’t really know, you guys are fun to draw, you look so cool,” Iwai tried to smile, even timidly. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded. 

“Aren’t you sweet,” Hanabusa chirped. “Do you want to watch from close up instead?”

“I’m...thank you, but I’m no good around a lot of people,” Iwai said.

“What if you came early?” Shinomiya suggested. 

“Ne? Shinomiya?” Hanabusa turned to him. He put a finger to his pursed lips then beamed again.

“Great idea! You can come while we’re setting up. Only a few of us are there, and Shinomiya-” he elbowed the youngest archer and winked. “He’s our eager star, always there as long as he can be.”

“You must really love your sport,” Iwai said managing to look  _ almost _ at Shinomiya.

“Yo, Shinomiya, Hana-senpai,” Itori said. “We should go back.”

“Oh, right, I’m Hanabusa and he’s Itori, nice meeting you!” Hanabusa chirped and flitted after Itori.

“So will we see you earlier tomorrow?” Shinomiya asked.

“Ah, yes, thank you, Shinomiya,” Iwai said.

Shinomiya didn’t say anything else, merely smiled at him and left.

  
  


After actually meeting the boy, Shinomiya began to notice and push himself to greet Iwai. He began to understand that the timid artist was painfully shy. He had no qualms with anyone, he just kept to himself if no one approached him. So Shinomiya  began to do just that. 

“Good morning Iwai,” he said, taking the seat next to Iwai’s in the classroom. He was trying to make a pattern of it. He still socialized with other friends and the archers plenty, but it seemed that with Iwai he’d have to try a little harder.

“Oh, good morning Shinomiya,” Iwai would smile shyly back.

“Will you join me for lunch again? You’re not going to work through it like yesterday are you?” 

“Thank you,” was all Iwai said in return. 

 

Shinomiya tried to be considerate with Iwai, noticing how joining him for lunch with several people was overwhelming, he’d taken to finding a smaller table for just the two of them. It wasn’t always like this, sometimes Iwai vanished to work on something through lunch or simply wasn’t up to dealing with a crowd in the cafeteria. 

‘ _ Social situations can be kind of draining, _ ’ he’d explained one day. Shinomiya didn’t understand it, but he didn’t press with how shy Iwai had shown himself to be. Today he was just happy to see his friend looking alright, even eating a little more than he usually did, Shinomiya noticed.

 

“Is there something wrong?” Iwai asked, noticing that Shinomiya had been waiting for him to look up.

“Hmm? No,” Shinomiya said, looking back at him. “Just, I told Niwa and Nakajima I’d sit with them tomorrow.”

“I thought they didn’t like each other?” Iwai cocked his head a bit.

He was so cute when he did that...wait, cute? Shinomiya shook his head to clear his thoughts and Iwai took it to mean something related to his following statement of: “I did too. He still seems to annoy Nakajima though, so I don’t really know.”

“So you’ll be with Nakajima?” Iwai asked, looking at his plate rather than Shinomiya.

“And Niwa. Do you want to join us?”

“You don’t have to invite me, it’s okay” Iwai said. He didn’t sound hurt, but there was something in his voice.

“You don’t have to,” Shinomiya said gently.  _ I just don’t want you to be alone _ .

“Do you think it’ll be anyone else?” Iwai asked.

Shinomiya paused to think. “I don’t, but you don’t have to force yourself if you get uncomfortable.”

 

Uncomfortable was a word that Iwai kept skirting around in his mind the next day. He was learning to handle Nakajima’s presence in class, especially since they rarely came in close contact with each other. There was just something menacing about the boy. Word had gotten around that both he and Niwa were formidable martial artists and perhaps that was why many people didn’t want to end up on their bad sides. But Niwa, loud and space consuming as he was, didn’t frighten Iwai, even if he exhausted him a bit. 

 

He looked at Shinomiya in silent gratitude for allowing him to sit so close on their bench, across the table from the other two. He caught Nakajima giving their vicinity and once over, those eyes made him shiver even if he had no clue why. He just seemed like someone who might snap you in half or swallow you whole if he disliked you. It made Iwai all the more grateful to be so physically close to Shinomiya.

 

He didn’t take in much of what they were saying. Something about the student council president, about how differently Niwa wanted to do things at BL Academy. Shinomiya on the other hand listened intently. He agreed that the students deserved their autonomy, but how did Niwa think they were going to keep order? 

“Do you really think we can trust a school of teenagers to take care of ourselves Niwa?” he asked.

“Not everyone follows the rules without someone to make sure they do.”

 

“That’s what a disciplinary committee is for, don’t you trust there to be other students as dedicated to order as you are, Shinomiya-san?” Nakajima said. 

“We’ll make sure to enforce the rules, deal out suitable punishments for those who break them and show that we mean business about order.” Nakajima spoke in a matter-of-fact manner and a slight cool detachment. It didn’t seem to phase him that they may have to “take some of the first offenses quite seriously. If we have to punish them harshly to set an example, it could work.”

 

“You sound like you’re ready to take on hardened criminals,” Shinomiya noted, not sure how serious he was.

“We’ll need to be firm for certain,” Nakajima said. “If we start out strong we establish our authority. For example, even those with poor grades shouldn’t just skirt by. And we could keep an eye on the students who don’t seem to get along with others.”

Shinomiya felt Iwai tense beside him and put a reassuring hand on his leg without thinking, only to jerk it away and look apologetically at him upon realizing it. Niwa and Nakajima looked at them and exchanged a glance, but said nothing. 

“Neh, what if kids need support, not punishment?” Niwa chimed in, drawing all eyes back to him. Iwai even smiled. 


	3. ...

“Oh? He smiled for someone else?” Hanabusa teased. “He does have a cute smile, your little artist friend.”

Shinomiya contemplated that for a moment as he followed Hanabusa into the baths. He’d protested at first, saying that it was polite to let seniors go first, but Hanabusa had reminded him that they were meeting some of his friends would be there, but Shinomiya was his guest after their late practice together While a bath social seemed a bit odd to Shinomiya it occurred to him that maybe this was the only time several busy seniors could manage to get together since Hanabusa had mentioned them being busy with projects. 

 

They met a small handful consisting of other seniors, Itori and another second year who greeted Shinomiya with reminders of how excited Hanabusa had been to have a national champion  in his club. 

“Neh, hey,” Hanabusa looked around.

“Senpai?” Shinomiya asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Has anyone seen Aoi?” Hanabusa asked. 

One of the other answered him; “Crash told me to tell you he’s working late tonight. He’ll try to show later.”

Hanabusa sighed but soon his cheerfulness took over as he joined in socializing with his friends. Some of them were other archers Shinomiya knew, who helped him adjust into the circle of upperclassmen.

 

They had managed to get into a discussion about how the current student body president was using his power and the power the students could or should have when Hanabusa gasped suddenly and waved.

“Aoi!” he called, getting up to greet the boy like he wasn’t naked and cold from abruptly leaving the hot water.

Crash laughed at him, “it’s like you didn’t see me yesterday.”

The other boys tossed them side glances, smirked, snickered, but no one said anything that Shinomiya caught. 

“So you were telling us about how Nakajima is gonna be a one-man discipline team,” one of the archers reminded him, drawing his attention back. 

 

As the boys began to file out of  the tub to rinse off, Shinomiya’s eyes fell upon Crash and Hanabusa. 

He would remember later two things, how embarrassed he was that he’d stared, and the sheer tenderness of the sight before him. Even surrounded by others, Crash and the Captain seemed to see only each other. Or maybe that wasn’t entirely accurate because Crash was seated with Hanabusa running a cloth over his back, wiping away suds. Shinomiya realized the carefulness of the touch, the reverence in Hanabusa’s expression. He would later be embarrassed for them because they seemed to lack any concept that they should be. 

  
  


Iwai  bit at his nails as he tried to focus on his homework. He had already missed dinner, at this rate he’d be up all night too. He tried to focus on biology, not Shinomiya. Not the perfect poise with which he stood all the time but especially when holding a bow. Not the way his eyes locked onto a target and burned a hole into it before his arrow did. Certainly not how sweat would glisten on his skin and slide into his robe, which Iwai wished would fall just a bit further back-

_ No! Stop it! _ he scolded himself.

If he didn’t focus he wouldn’t be able to stay in the same biology class as Shinomiya. He’d slide back and have to take the Regular course. Having Shinomiya sit next to him every morning, no, he couldn’t lose that.

_ Have to focus _ .

 

His phone rang. He let it. He didn’t see the point of having it, he didn’t have friends. But his mother insisted he needed one if he were going to live away from her. It kept ringing.

With a sigh, he gave in, “hello?”

“Takuto, you haven’t called lately.”

_ You haven’t either. _ “Sorry mama. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I saw your father recently, he asked about you. About what you were up to.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you like being away?”

“I made a friend here...”

“What have you been working on? Have you been painting?”

Iwai sighed and didn’t say anything back. So that’s how it was.

“You’re being so cold Takuto.”

“Sorry mama.”

“Well it’s getting close to summer break, will you bring home some good news?”

“I’m working hard in class. I actually need to finish homework right now-”

“Take care of yourself okay?”

“Yeah, thanks. Love you.”

“Bye baby.”

He closed his phone and turned it off, clenching it as he held down the power button.

  
  


“Yo, Iwai,” the voice from behind him sounded distant, but quickly Iwai fell back into reality with a harsh thump at his back. He realized he was standing in the doorway of the classroom with Niwa (and likely, other annoyed students) behind him.

“Ah- s-sorrry, Niwa,” he said as he hurried to his seat. 

Niwa looked over the artists glassy expression, now a bit worried. He came to sit next to him and turned sideways in his chair to face him.

“You okay?” he asked, like he wouldn’t really believe a “yes.”

Iwai made an effort to look at him. “Yeah, sorry, just didn’t sleep well,” he said.

“Did you sleep at all? You look awful,” Niwa commented. “Ow! Hey-”

“You have no tact as usual, oaf.” Nakajima suddenly appeared behind Niwa and after brandishing a hand against him and gave Iwai another uncomfortable once-over.

“You do look tired Iwai-san, are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Just tired,” Iwai said with a nod, hoping they’d be done with him soon. Luckily the teacher was calling for attention and Iwai sighed with relief before shrinking back into his seat.

  
  


Niwa and Shinomiya joined Nakajima at their now usual lunch table. Niwa looked around then nodded to himself. “Where’s Iwai?” he asked Shinomiya. “Is he working through lunch again?”

“I think so,” Shinomiya answered.

“You did see him today, right? He really didn’t look too good.” 

“I noticed,” Shinomiya answered. 

“Aren’t you worried? You’re like his keeper or something aren’t you?” Niwa prodded.

“I’m his friend,” Shinomiya deadpanned. “You seem concerned with him yourself, Niwa-san.”

“Yeah,” Niwa admitted. He looked at the spot next to Shinomiya which the artist wasn’t occupying that day.

“He’s cute I guess, y’know? Like some lost...um...little sloth I guess? They’re cute right?” 

“ _ Excuse me? _ ” Shinomiya managed.

“I mean, he’s the kinda guy you just wanna take care of, I get why you’re always watching over him.”

“I...am, I guess.”

It had started as a question but as he formed the words, Shinomiya understood their truth. 

“You’re sociable, but there certainly is no one else you pay attention to, like you have to him,” Nakajima noted cooly. 

Shinomiya was caught off guard and it showed on his face.  

“Someone has to,” he said. “Since  _ you _ noticed Iwai, Niwa-san, I’m obviously not the only one.”

 

Through the rest of the day, Shinomiya couldn’t shake the idea that there was something more to what Niwa had said about Iwai. More than that, he was worried about his friend’s absence the rest of the day. He didn’t see him in afternoon class. It wasn’t the first time he’d been worried about how tired the artist seemed, but he’d never noticed Iwai going missing before. Maybe he should send him an email, just something brief? He smiled to himself upon remembering Iwai’s reaction to his suggestion that they trade contact information. 

 

_ Iwai sat, slumped and unmoving over his seat in biology class, even as the class filed out. _

_ “Iwai?” a soft hand settled on the artist’s shoulder. That got him to look up.  _

_ “What’s wrong?” Shinomiya asked him. _

_ Iwai sighed and stood, collecting his materials. “I’m okay,” he muttered. _

_ “Really?” _

_ Iwai looked at him properly, if only for a moment, “I’m worried I won’t be able to stay in this class. I’m already struggling to keep up so early in the year,” he confessed. He glanced up for just long enough that Shinomiya caught a look of surprising grief in his eyes.  _

_ “Why don’t I help you?” he suggested, as if it were obvious. “We can do our homework together.” _

_ “Really?” the hazel eyes lit up as they met his. _

_ “Of course,” Shinomiya said. _

_ “Wouldn’t that make you busier already though?” Iwai worried. _

_ “You already study through lunch sometimes, don’t you, Iwai?” _

_ The artist nodded. _

_ “I don’t use my cellphone too much, but why don’t we trade numbers and emails?” _

_ As if Takuto’s eyes hadn’t lit up already, his expression followed suit. He seemed to easy to please with some careful interest and kindness. The thought of how alone he seemed made Shinomiya frown briefly, but he lead Iwai out of the classroom and genuinely smiled as they traded information _ .

  
  


‘ I didn’t see you after lunch, are you okay ?’ he sent. There. Simple enough.

He clenched his fist around his phone and realized several minutes had passed when he saw the reply.

‘ Yes. Sorry. ’

‘ Will you be there at early practice? ’ 

Even as he typed it out, Shinomiya had the urge to hurry to the archery range. 

‘ Yes. See you soon .’

Shinomiya found himself heading towards the range earlier than usual. His mind scanned over the mere handful of words Iwai had sent. The boy seemed apologetic for everything. In fact, he always seemed to be doubting himself. Shinomiya frowned. He worried over that boy for good reason.   

 

As lost in thought as he was he didn’t register the voices at the range until a bit too late and found himself standing before Hanabusa and Aoi. They stood with arms wrapped around each other, kissing. And  _ giggling _ .    
They too were lost, in each other. They looked so  _ happy _ . When Hanabusa tilted his head back and let out his signature musical laugh the sun illuminated his face, highlighting his splash of freckles and the tips of his hair. Shinomiya’s heart beat loudly and slowly in his ears. He tried to back away to give them privacy when they noticed. 

“Oh-” Crash said.

“Oh hi,” Hanabusa added.

Shinomiya was mortified. “E-excuse m-me,” he stuttered.

Hanabusa and Crash looked at Shinomiya, then back at each other, still smiling before they broke out in laughter. Shinomiya froze, entirely unsure of what to do.

 

“Sorry about that,” Hanabusa said once they’d both calmed down. 

“N-no,” Shinomiya said, relaxing and trying to look at him directly. “It’s my fault, no one was supposed to be here, yet, right?”

“My, aren’t you an understanding guy,” Crash smirked. He turned to Hanabusa, “Captain’s favourite right?”

Hanabusa scoffed at him in disbelief, “Aoi!” Followed by an elbow jab when Crash just winked.

Crash looked at his watch, “actually, Hisoka, we kinda lost track of time.” 

He held his wrist up for Hanabusa to see. 

“Oh! Get going then!” Hanabusa urged, pushing him for emphasis. He looked at Shinomiya. 

“Do you think your artist friend will be here today?” 

“Ah, yes, he went missing after lunch but he said he’d be here.”

“Oi, I didn’t even help you set up today, sorry,” Crash said, taking the Captain’s attention back.

“Shinomiya will help me, there will be others here soon, to,” Hanabusa rebuffed. “Go,” he pointed in the direction of what Shinomiya assumed was meant to me the track. 

“Okay, okay,” Crash said, he turned to peck Hanabusa on the cheek and waved over his shoulder as he dashed off. They both watched him pass Iwai as the artist headed towards them.

 

That boy had just kissed the archery Captain and in front of Shinomiya. Iwai wondered just  _ who _ was jogging past him as he made his way over to the duo the running boy was leaving behind. 

“You  _ did  _ come,” Hanabusa chirped. “Shinomiya said you went missing earlier. But I’m sure we’re both glad you’re here.”

Iwai’s eyes widened and he looked down, in his typical fashion. 

Hanabusa laughed and turned to the equipment. 

 

“Are you alright Iwai?” Shinomiya asked him.

“You asked that already,” Iwai whispered, but he smiled. Shinomiya seemed worried about him.

“Shiiinomiya,” Hanabusa called him. “Will you help me?”

Shinomiya looked at Iwai again before going to the Captain. Iwai nodded and gave him a usual shy smile before taking a seat with his sketchbook.

 

“Thank you,” Hanabusa grinned and his nose crinkled, “Aoi and I didn’t get aaany~thing done.”

Shinomiya flushed, “he’s...your?”

“Yeah,” Hanabusa glowed again in the sunlight, “he’s mine.”

 

It didn’t really matter to Iwai what they were talking about, even if he were just faintly curious. But the embarrassed expression and colour that spread over Shinomiya’s face was something Iwai was grateful he caught. Shinomiya was friendly, caring, even doting of him, he didn’t dare wish for anything more than the friendship this boy had already given him. But if he were graced with the sight of an expression he rarely saw on the archer, well, who was he to complain?

 

That day, instead of vanishing, he only moved to a spot on the grassy plateau above the archery field when the other archers arrived. Shinomiya was expecting Iwai to join him for dinner and they planned go over their biology homework together. The thought roused a nervousness in him and he grabbed his papers from his bag, hoping to get a head start. 

 

Archery wasn’t always his drawing theme, it just happened to be what he chose to have around him when he sketched sometimes. Today it included a plant cell he copied from his notes and a flower in various stages of bloom and wilt. 

He startled suddenly when he realized the figure standing over him.

“Shinomiya!” he said, flipping his sketchbook shut in a hurry.  

“You never show your sketches, I only saw them that once,” Shinomiya and his gentle smile, they made Iwai want to show the same expression.

“Don’t look, it’s no good really,” he protested.

“Oh? Sorry. They are though,” Shinomiya said.

“I didn’t even mean to show anyone that day,” Iwai muttered. 

“When we met, you mean?” 

Iwai glanced up at him as he gathered his materials back into his bag. He nodded.

“Do you draw other people too?” 

Iwai froze,  _ other people _ ? 

“I drew some of the archers, and sometimes just people I see if they’re in the same place long enough...” he wouldn’t look up.

 

Shinomiya watched his friend tense and worried, had he done something wrong? In just a couple months he’d begun to understand just how fragile his friend was. Hard on himself, with tendencies to overwork and forget to take care of himself. He was someone who needed a friend to check on him. 

“Iwai, is something wrong?” he asked. He was so sensitive, especially about his art.

“N-no, sorry,” Iwai finally looked at him.

“Are you ready to go then?”

“Yeah...” Iwai looked him over quickly. “You’re all changed too?”

“It seems like you got quite lost in your work and lost track of time,” it wasn’t a scolding. Shinomiya was careful not to upset him.

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you draw your family?” Shinomiya asked suddenly, as they were walking.

“ _ Family _ ?” Iwai said, caught off guard. “It’s just me...and my mom,” he fidgeted at that mention.

“So you have this kind of calm all the time at home then?”

“I guess. Um, what about Shinomiya?”

“I have a lot of people in one place,” he answered. “My family, my little brother, my parents, my father’s parents, I think I’d draw too them if I could. I’d like to be able to draw like you, but I suppose everyone has their talents.”

“I’m not very good,” Iwai insisted.

“Well you’re much better than I am,” Shinomiya said. 

“I’d like to see your picture of them,” Iwai managed to smile, shyly and sideways, but at him nonetheless.

“I’ll bring you a photo instead.”

“You’re happy to go home soon?” 

“For summer break? Aren’t you?”

Iwai didn’t answer immediately, he bit his lip and looked away.

“Shinomiya?”

“Yes?”

“Will you miss it here?”

“Well home can get kind of crowded and busy, but I love my family,” he replied. “I’ll miss my friends though.”

Iwai turned to him, not bothering to hide his timid smile this time. He didn’t need words, not with how little he was used to saying or conveying anyway. Though he may have whispered back:  _ I’ll miss you too _ .


	4. ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: contains (implied) self-harm/aftermath and a shitty parent

 

Iwai’s train ride home was crowded and overwarm but he managed to zone out for most of it.

Mostly he was anxious, he scratched at the skin of his nails as he wondered what his mother was up to. They hadn’t stayed in contact much while he’d been at school. A couple of calls here and there, a mention of some new exhibit his father was debuting.

 _Something of his own again, it sounds like_.

His mother had wanted him to come see it, to spend time as a family.

_But we’re not, not really._

If if it made his mother happy though, why not let her pretend?

He’d left her a message from the train station saying he was on the way home, met with the same lack of reply as his call two days prior.

_She picked up a couple weeks ago when I told her summer break was getting close._

He shoved a hand into his jean pocket and sifted a key between his fingers.

 _Maybe it will be quiet and peaceful_ ... _at home_...

 

Quiet was certain. Still no response when he tried calling his mother from the station. He ended up in a cab, trying to appease the drivers attempts at small talk.

“Just you?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be traveling alone?”

Iwai noted the driver’s gesture towards his suitcase and wondered how young he looked.

“Coming home for summer break.”

“No one to bring you home, kiddo?”

“It’s fine.”

 

He got off a couple streets from his home, in need of a short walk. Even if he began to regret it with the weight of his bags.

” _Traveling artists can’t always travel light_ ,” his mother had mentioned when she realized how crammed his two suitcases were, mostly with art books and supplies. He didn’t need too much in the way of other clothing with the uniform he’d be wearing all the time and his toiletries were simple, easy enough to buy anywhere.

 

Iwai let himself into the apartment to find it dark and empty. Oh.

“I thought you’d be here,” he said into the personless space.

He sighed and dragged his bags to his room to unpack.

 

He found a note in the kitchen:

“Takuto,

your father and I are together for summer break,

I’ll bring back something good for us, so be a good boy while we’re gone,

 

-mama”

He swallowed, compressed the note in his fist and exhaled long and deep, then smoothed it out, left it on the counter and walked away.

 

-

 

“Nii-chan!” the loudest voice at the airport may have belong to a very excited ten year old. Shinomiya grinned back just as enthusiastically as he met his family.  He didn’t get far before there were two small arms around him and he returned the hug a bit more gently than his younger brother delivered it.

“I missed you too, Ryou,” he laughed.

He didn’t move yet, not having the heart to pry the child off of him. His mother stood behind them, arms crossed, satisfied smile across her face. She greeted her son with an more contained embrace.

“How was your trip?” she brushed the bangs out her elder sons eyes and took him in.

“Yeah! Tell us! We missed you!” Ryou declared.

“Come, let’s go before Ryou gets any louder,” his mother laughed. “He demanded to be here to greet you, you know,” she took one of their hands in each of hers.

 

“Dad and grandmother and grandfather are all busy cooking,” Ryou said on the ride home.

“Just~ for~ youuu,” he singsonged. “And they’ll scold you if your try to help out, we’re celebrating.”

“We’re celebrating?” Shinomiya echoed.

“Celebrating you, because we don’t get to see you anymore,” Ryou clarified.

“That’s not true, I’m back now, aren’t I?”

“But you’re sooo faaar awaaaay,” Ryou whined.

Shinomiya tussled his hair affectionately, “did you really miss me that much?”

 

Shinomiya discovered, upon arriving home that Ryou was quite right. His grandmother chased him out of the kitchen (after a round of greetings from his grandparents and father.)  

“Go unpack! No other work, you must be tired,” she chided. “Now get out of my kitchen.”

“I told you,” Ryou smirked, waiting for him outside of the kitchen.

“So you did,” Shinomiya sighed.

“Ryou, go to Koji’s room and help him,” came their mother’s voice as she carried in the last suitcase.

“There,” she said, setting it down. “That’s it? There’s nothing you forgot, dropped, left on the plane? Or in your dorm?” she teased.

“I’m sure, thank you.”

His mother uncrossed her arms and wrapped them around him. She sighed and crushed him close for just  
a moment. When she released him from the embrace she still held his arms in her hands and looked him over. She ran a hand through one side of his bangs, brushing them away from his eye.

“Welcome home my baby.”

“I’m home, mom.”

 

Over lunch his family wanted to know any and everything he hadn’t told them yet. They wanted to know about the archery Captain he’d mentioned in letters, about the friends he’d made, about his plans while at home.

“Ryou-chan wants you to take him to the festival,” his grandmother said. “But don’t let that child get lost or eat too much cotton candy,” she gave Ryou a knowing side-eye. “Or bring home too many goldfish.”

“I won’t!” Ryou protested. “And I _did not_ eat too much last time.”

“You vomited pink and blue that night,” Shinomiya reminded him, it was meant to be a gentle reminder but Ryou was having none of it.

“It wasn’t just that!” he declared, then realized the other masses of things he’d consumed were a poor defense of eating spun sugar.

“I’ll watch out for him, of course,” Shinomiya gave his brothers hair another affectionate ruffle.

 

-

 

It was still dark when Takuto awoke. Which was good, because it meant he didn’t have to get up or shuffle into his uniform. Oh. He suddenly remembered the other reason he didn’t have to get up and shuffle into his uniform. He turned over and pulled the blanket closer against himself. Takuto felt a twinge of regret. There was one reason he didn’t mind the tie anymore. That tie that he never managed to get straight and neat as he’d noticed Shinomiya’s was. Shinomiya had also noticed the difference.

 

“ _Your tie is always like this,_ ” _Shinomiya observed._

_“Yeah.” Iwai didn’t have anything to add._

_“Will you let me help you?”_

_“Wha?” that caught Iwai’s attention._

_“Your tie, give it to me?”_

 

_So Iwai shrugged out of it and handed it to Shinomiya, entranced as the boy slid it over himself, undid the knot and re-tied it around his own neck. When he finished he took it off and handed it back. Iwai adjusted it on himself, still in a bit of a daze._

 

_The next time, Shinomiya sighed, he never quite scoffed at Iwai, he was often careful around the shy artist._

_“Here, let me?” Shinomiya asked as he settled the tie back around Iwai’s neck._

_Iwai simply nodded so Shinomiya tucked it under his collar, not seeming to notice brushing his throat as he did so. His hands were steady as they tightened it, looking up to meet Iwai’s eyes when he finished._

_“Good?”_

_Iwai had no words, he bit his lip and nodded again. Finally he managed a “thank you.”_

_He looked forward to next time._

 

Next time when Shinomiya would tug the tie around his neck ever so gently, pulling him closer. Let his hands travel against Iwai’s throat, cradle his face, roam down his chest. When he would feel Shinomiya’s kiss on his face, those strong hands cradling and caressing him at once. And he would melt against Shinomiya’s mouth on his own...

 

Well, maybe that last part didn’t happen. Even in the dark with no one to see him he went wide-eyed and pink at his own imagination, he squeaked to himself, embarrassed. Iwai didn’t want to be alone though really, he missed BL school already. There was nothing here, his mother wasn’t even there, there was no one he wanted to see. Only what he’d left behind or left him.

 

-

 

“Niiiii-chaaaan, Nii-chan, Nii-chan, nii-channii-channii-chaaanniiiii-”  
“ _Yes Ryou_?” Shinomiya looked up at the child whose face was mere inches away from his.

“Good morning.”

“I...good morning,” Shinomiya resigned.

“Are we going out today?Are we gonna do something?”

“What time is it?” Shinomiya grunted.

 

“Ryou!” came the sudden stern voice. “Are you bothering Koji?”

Shinomiya was still waking himself up when he recognized his mother. Her expression softened when it fell upon him.

“It’s still early, let yourself rest,” she said, then turned to her younger son. “Come on, if you’re not going to get proper rest, you can at least help me with breakfast, let Koji wake up on his own.”

Shinomiya nodded gratefully and turned over. His mother pulled the sheet back over his shoulder and led Ryou out by the hand.

 

When he came downstairs, showered and dressed he found the table set with a place for him.  
His grandfather and brother sat on the couch while his mother and grandmother seemed to be busy in the kitchen.

“You’re sure about a kimono? I could still go shopping with you,” he overheard his grandmother say.

“I’d rather wear that dress you gave me last year, it’s still perfect.”

“You don’t think it’ll be chilly?”

“We have sweaters, mother.”

“Do you need one?”

“Hm, can I borrow your blue one?”

“The one with-”

 

Shinomiya didn’t catch anymore as he went to see what Ryou was up to now.

“A puzzle?”

Ryou beamed up at him and his grandfather turned to face him.

“Do you remember this one?” his grandfather asked. “Even though it has some hundred something pieces you were so determined to put it together when you were Ryou’s age.”

“Well are you gonna stand there or help us?” Ryou asked before Shinomiya could say anything.

So in answer, he knelt down beside them both and let his brother point out what they had accumulated.

 

-

 

The days dragged on for Iwai. They blurred together. This was not a “vacation” he would have chosen.

Though it was peaceful, quiet, isolated. He was glad not to be worrying over his classes all day at least.

He spent many days in the library, huddled in a stack of art books or looking up works or references online.

By happenchance, he came upon an old announcement of his own art contest winning a couple of years ago. They were impressed that a child had desgined and even carved his woodblock for the prints.

He closed the page and went to look up the hours of a local art store. There was still time today, but he would need to return home and retrieve his art-savings. What he’d won in prize money from rare contests it went right back into his art.

 

The sun was dipping into an early-evening glow by the time he left the art store, a handful of new ideas jotted down, even a couple of sketches and a bag of supplies for a new woodcut he had in mind. He brought it all to his room to start working, soon enveloped in his customary trance. He didn’t know how long he’d been working, barely recognizing his phone chime. It took all of his ability just to realize what it was, he remained focused on carving. When he was satisfied, he pushed his materials just far enough from himself to lie down, tiredness taking over.

 

Iwai had been awake only long enough to shower off more of his exhaustion when he remembered to check his phone. He kept repeating the reminder over and over as he dressed, lest he forget soon as he were dry.

There was a new message from his mother.

“ _Takuto, it’s mom. I’ll be home in a couple of days, we can catch part of a summer festival together, won’t that be fun?_ ”

Maybe he could make her something to surprise her when she was home.

“ _And Itori will be in town this weekend, it’s been a while, wouldn’t it be nice to see her again? Should we have her over? Can’t wait to see you baby_.”

 

He shut his phone off immediately but continued to grip it tightly. He wasn’t really sure how long he stood there once he snapped out of it. He glanced at the fridge. He’d need to go grocery shopping before his mother got home, since she’d forgotten to.

 

_Itori...wouldn’t it be nice to see her again?_

 

He didn’t bother to make breakfast, just crawled back into bed and half-heartedly pushed more of his art-clutter off of it. The one blessing he’d found recently was that the dream kept coming. It was short, in fractures and never went far, but as he clenched his eyes shut he wished to believe Shinomiya’s hands were on him again.

 

If he were aware of it as it happened, he’d have been grateful. It wasn’t often he found himself with such pleasant dreams but he wasn’t going to question this lovely scene on repeat.  If he could force his focus onto only this, he would not get up again that day.

 

_Shinomiya’s hands held his face, bringing their gazes to meet. He seems more bold than usual as he starts by raining slow, soft kisses over Iwai’s face, dragging a happy sigh and shiver out of the thin boy in response. If this moment would just keep going..._

**_Oh, or this_ ** _, he thinks as Shinomiya’s mouth covers his and he’s kissing back with the same desire as it spreads all through him.  He’s warm and glowing and it doesn’t matter where his shirt has gone or where Shinomiya’s hands are as long as they don’t let go of him. Opened mouthed, chilling him, it doesn’t matter where his kisses are going..._ _  
_ _Except..._

_Those aren’t his kisses, those aren’t his hands, the polished nails digging into his side..._

_Not her._

_Not her. She’s gone. She’s done._

_She’s done with him._

_He gasped and tried to scramble away, to say what he wish he had instead of what he’d actually said._

_If only he’d known then. He wouldn’t have said yes._

 

Iwai opened his eyes and gripped the blanket. He decided he was done sleeping. He still needed to clean up and shop before his mother got home.

 

-

 

Shinomiya was now used to his brother’s habit of trying to wake him early in the morning. The child seemed determined to spend whatever time was available together. So when Ryou arrived in his room one morning, trying to beat the dawn, Shinomiya just grunted and moved closer to the wall against his bed. He didn’t know how long his brother spent chanting his mantra of “Nii-chan”, until he felt another warm presence slide under the blanket next to him.

“Fine,” came the younger voice.  “I was supposed to remind you about your camera tonight, but I can do that later I guess.”

The elder brother gave no response except to turn over and let Ryou cuddle up close to him.

 

“Nii-chan?” he asked  later, still huddled beside his brother.

“Nnm?” a still sleepy reply, but he was awake now.

“I’m supposed to remind you something about a camera, I think.”

Shinomiya pushed himself up and looked down at Ryou, “aren’t you a little too big for this?”

“You never get up anyway,” Ryou pouted.

“I’ve just been tired I guess,” Shinomiya shrugged. “You said something about a camera?”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to remind you to bring a camera to the festival tonight I think?”

“Oh, yes, my friend wanted to see a picture of us- the family I mean.”

Ryou watched with fascination as his brothers expression softened, looking even a bit wistful.

An impish grin spread over his face, he leaned forward and whispered; “is this friend pretty?”

“Wha?” Shinomiya snapped back to reality.

“Oooh.”

“What? Ryou what’s with that face?”

“No~thing. I’ll help you remember a camera tonight.”

 

They came downstairs late for breakfast again.

“Where are you all morning?” their father fussed over them. “Since when are you no longer a morning person, Koji?” he regarded his son then shared a glance with his wife.

“Let them eat for now,” she said. “I’m sure Ryou’s rush of energy is just something Koji has to get used to again.”

But she did pull him aside, promptly raising one hand to his forehead. She sighed.

“Are you feeling alright? You’ve been sleeping in all the time.”

“Just some trouble sleeping, I guess. I’m fine, really,” he said.

His mother scrunched her face and stared at him a moment, but she relented, seeming satisfied for the moment. “Say something if you feel off though,” she warned him. She lowered her voice to add, “I have Ryou to worry about. You’re my responsible one,” and kissed his forehead before letting him sit.

 

-

 

It was dark, Iwai realized. He awoke on the floor and the first thing he realized outside of his own body was the razor by his hand. The blood on his arm had dried, the cuts weren’t deep but they were still sticky.

He had to clean up, there was blood on the floor.

 

Iwai pulled himself up from his fetal position on the ground, wiped at dried tears on his face and grimaced.

He tried to remember what he’d been so upset about, to no avail and settled for going into the bathroom first. Oh. He would have to buy real bandages. Luckily he knew where they had tissues and tape.

 

He tried to remember if he’d been grocery shopping, but decided to worry about it after he cleaned up. With his arm mostly clean and dry now, he focused on getting the blood off of the floor. Every time he wiped back and forth he saw the thin red stripes that crawled down his arm. It wasn’t that bad, not pretty, but he could have done worse, he considered, when the sound of the door interrupted his thoughts.

 

“Takuto?” he heard. “I’m home, baby.”

 _Ohnonono, not yet_.

“Takuto?”

He heard footsteps approaching, bolted upright and left his room, closing the door behind him.

“Welcome home,” he greeted.

She opened her arms to envelop him, “I’m home.”

He allowed himself to sink against her, feeling warm again.

After a minute he shirked himself away, keeping his arm out of view.

“I thought we could go to the summer festival together,” she said. “But maybe tomorrow since I got back late today.”

He smiled up at her and nodded.

“Oh- I’m sorry,” he said. “I forgot to go grocery shopping.”

“Don’t worry, we can do that tomorrow,” she said, reaching for his wrists. “I brought souvenirs, even-”

she stopped when her fingers felt below his wrist. She jerked his arm into her view and stared at the only two cuts his sleeve revealed.

“Takuto! What happened?!” she cried.

“It’s nothing! Just an accident!” he answered. “I- I was working on carving something and my hand slipped. I’m fine. It’s okay, really,” he tried to assure her, unable to keep his voice calm.

“Oh,” she exhaled. “Well is that all? You should be more careful, sweetie,” she tapped his nose and kissed him.

“Um..I need to add ointment and some bandages to our shopping list, I guess,” he said.

She nodded, “yeah, we can do that. Oh!” she perked up again. “I brought you bittersweet chocolates.”

So she’d remembered how he’d grown to like those. She let him go and excitedly attended one of her small suitcases.

“These!” she chimed, pulling a box out.

Iwai smiled at her again. She’d even found his favourite.


	5. .....

The marks were fading by the time Iwai returned to BL school but they weren’t gone. He kept pulling his sleeves further down his wrists, sometimes until they covered part of his hand. 

_ Shinomiya will notice _ , he knew.

He made sure to clean and wrap his arms with clean bandages (again), before going to the cafeteria to meet his friends as promised. Or rather, as Shinomiya had promised and asked him to join. They were Shinomiya’s friends, but he didn’t mind being an extension of the archer.

 

Students were returning to the academy over the weeknd, Iwai had returned earlier than many students, and offered to spend his free and otherwise aimless time, helping Shinomiya unpack the next day. 

He smiled to himself, excited to hear about Shinomiya’s vacation, more than that, excited to see him again.

He expected to walk into the cafeteria and find Shinomiya surrounded by the archery club and maybe some of their classmates (he was a popular boy.) Instead of the scene he expected, Iwai looked around, puzzled, wondering if he were accidentally early. 

 

Iwai frowned, disappointed. He was not very comfortable in crowds, especially without Shinomiya now. 

_ You’re so clingy, what’s wrong with you _ ? he scolded himself.

He must have been standing there for a while because suddenly a hand on his shoulder startled him back into awareness. 

“Ah!”

“Sorry Iwai!” Niwa grinned. Even his smile was loud. “You were just standing there, spaced out, did Shinomiya leave you behind or something?” 

It was meant as a joke but the devastated expression on Iwai’s faced caused him to backtrack. 

“Just kidding! He wouldn’t leave you alone, right?”

“Um,” Iwai didn’t have a more thought out response. 

“C’mon, we’ll save him a seat,” Niwa proclaimed, dropping an arm over his shoulder to lead him to a table.

 

He had been sitting, staring into his own lap in nervousness for how long? (he didn’t know,) when the best sound in the world resonated behind him. 

“Iwai?”

The artist resisted beaming, or melting in place and turned around. Then he had to resist throwing his arms around Shinomiya. He was just so happy to see him again.

“Shinomiya.”

  
  


“I brought a picture of them, don’t let me forget,” Shinomiya mentioned as they walked back to the dorm. 

He had excused himself and Iwai earlier than most of the reconvening kids to unpack, the look he’d given meant that he understood how much Iwai wanted to leave the crowded place. Everyone else seemed to be having a good time socializing, but the artist seemed increasingly overwhelmed.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like,” he said. “Living at a Shinto shrine with such a big family?”

“I guess it is big, I’ll admit it’s nice having a room to myself without a little brother to barge in all the time.”   
But he said so with a clear affection in his voice.

“I’m sure they were sad to see you go,” Iwai guessed.

“Sure, but my mother trusts me not to get into trouble. It’s Ryou she’s worried about.”

“Your brother?”

Shinomiya nodded. 

“He seemed to catch my summer cold as I was leaving, and here I was supposed to be the careful one.”

“You got sick? Should you be resting?”

“It was nothing really,” Shinomiya assured him. “I’m quite strong, you know?”

Iwai smiled shyly at the ground instead of answering.

 

He didn’t prove to be much help with Shinomiya’s unpacking, though Shinomiya assured him though he didn’t need help, it was nice to have company.

“Or more like it’s nice having you around.”

Iwai was too consumed with being flustered to hide his blush. He stood there watching Shinomiya take a pile of folded clothing out of his suitcase.

“Did you...you brought cooler weather clothes?” Iwai noticed.

“You didn’t?” Shinomiya asked.

“I guess I didn’t think about it.”

“Your mother didn’t? You said it was just you and her, right?”

While it was still warm, it would very soon become cooler most days. Shinomiya regarded his friend with a bit of worry. He pulled something else out of his bag. A brown button up sweater.

“Here, try this,” he held up the sweater in front of Iwai. “It may be a little big, but you’ll at least need a sweater, right?”

Iwai shook his head, “I, I couldn’t.”

Shinomiya ignored the statement. “Hold your arms out for me?”

Iwai didn’t protest and did as Shinomiya asked, not sure what to do with himself as Shinomiya slid the sleeves over his arms. He wanted to get lost in the moment, wanted the contact to last. He didn’t realize that Shinomiya was standing, staring at his wrist until he spoke.

“Iwai?”

“Huh?”

“What is this?”

Iwai didn’t have to ask what Shinomiya meant, he felt fingers under the sweater, under his shirt sleeve, revealing the wrapping the ran up his arm. 

 

Iwai jerked his arm back, too late to stop himself from showing panic. 

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly. “I had an accident when I was making something at home. I make my own woodcuts for prints sometimes and I shouldn’t have tried carving when I was tired.”

Shinomiya looked at him skeptically, that was quite a reaction for an  _ accident _ . He reached to take Iwai’s opposite hand in his own.

“If there’s ever anything wrong you can tell me about it, if you don’t mind,” he said, trying to make their eyes meet. “You’re my friend, I’m here if you need someone.”

Iwai looked at him from the corner of his vision. 

“Thank you.”  _ You already do so much for me _ .

“Iwai-”

“I’m okay.”

 

Shinomiya looked him up and down, unconvinced. He looked even smaller than usual to the archer. In fact...

Iwai gasped when he felt Shinomiya’s hand press against his side. He  _ was _ thinner. Noticeably. 

“You lost weight over the break,” Shinomiya said.

Iwa’s chest was tight, he couldn’t breathe with Shinomiya’s hand on him. Not when the other hand was still holding his. Not when they were inches apart. They stared at each other for some unclear passing of time. Iwai wished that he could vanish into the wall behind him or summon the courage to shock them both with a kiss. Just the thought made him shiver and the movement was enough to disrupt their trance. 

 

“Ah- I...I’m sorry,” Shinomiya let go of him, trying not to show his own shock and turned back to his suitcase. 

“You can keep the sweater for now, if you like,” he said, looking at Iwai over his shoulder.

Iwai had pulled the sleeves down to the middle of his hands, his fingers fidgeting in the fabric.

“Thank you.”

  
  


The next day Shinomiya found Crash with Hanabusa after class. He was early again and though it seemed he wasn’t interrupting another kissing session he felt a hesitation to interrupt when he saw them. 

_ Maybe they don't have enough time together _ ? he wondered. Though the way they looked at each other, maybe they could never have enough. At present they were sitting on the steps of the open dojo. Hanabusa was leaning with his back against his boyfriend’s chest. It looked like they were in the middle of a conversation. Shinomiya hesitated to interrupt their intimacy, they looked so peaceful in each other's embrace. It was a quieter, more tender side to the Captain than he was used to glimpsing. He walked away and paced for a while, only to return to catch them in a kiss before parting. 

 

“Senpai,” he greeted, announcing his presence.

He was taken aback and the dreamy look still on Hanabusa’s face when the Captain turned to him. 

“Hi there, welcome back,” he responded. “We’re still doing this early thing, huh?”

“Do you not want to anymore?” Shinomiya asked.

“Oh, no! No I need to be here early anyway, and it’s a nice place to be alone with Aoi for a little while.”

Then his dreamy smile turned mischievous. 

“Say, Shinomiya-kun, since you caught me and Aoi that day, do you have a  _ ha~bit _ of coming by earlier?”

“I- I of course not!”

“Just kidding,” Hanabusa laughed. “So what about today? Why so early?”

“I’d hoped to ask your advice about something,” Shinomiya said.

“Hmm? What’s up?”

“Well Itori and I are going to nationals next week, but I’ve had a lot on my mind. Do you have any good methods for clearing your head before a competition?”

A memory flashed through his mind of Hanabusa telling him;  _ if you ever need anything, you can talk to me _ .

“Well, I’m not Captain because I’m a competitor, ” Hanabusa shrugged. “But what’s on your mind?”

  
Shinomiya took a long breath before answering, “I’m worried about my brother, he got sick before I came back...and Iwai. I’m worried about Iwai.”


	6. ......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: contains self-harm

A week without Shinomiya was not something Iwai was looking forward to. Iwai wished his friend the best of luck and offered his faith in Shinomiya as an archer. Shinomiya promised to let him know as soon as they got back.

“And you won’t be alone,” he said. “I know he’s hardly able to contain himself, but Niwa is still here.”

Iwai just nodded and folded his hands together nervously. Shinomiya placed his own hands over Iwai’s.

“I’ll come back, I promise.” 

Iwai opened his hands to answer the touch. Suddenly remembering those hands on him, he gasped softly but didn’t dare move. He wanted to hold Shinomiya there, not let him leave. Not that he dare try that either.

“Have a safe trip,” he whispered.

 

_ Come back. Come back. Come back _ , was a mantra Iwai kept slipping into, almost right away. He stared off into space in class and scolded himself because he promised to pay attention for Shinomiya, even if he knew that Niwa (a surprisingly gifted student,) claimed that he would also help take notes and it wasn’t as if the teachers would leave a good student such as Shinomiya hanging either. Yet Iwai felt a personal duty. Anything he could do to repay Shinomiya for such consistent friendship, he wanted to. He was trying to pay attention with all his might. Truly, he was. But his mind kept floating back to the night before. He’d answered his phone hoping it was Shinomiya. No such luck.

 

_ “Hi baby.” _ _   
_ _ “Hi mama.” _ ...

 

She never really asked about him, she told him about the gossip in her life or wanted to know if he was painting. He avoided the subject. Sometimes she spoke about his father. He avoided that subject too.

On the third day with no calls from Shinomiya and one from his mother, Takuto went back to leaving his phone in his room. There’d been no point carrying it around, had there? 

 

Takuto sighed as class let out. He picked up his books and waited for the doorway to become less crowded.

How he wished he hadn’t.

“Iwai-kun,” the sensei called. “Could you come over a here a minute?”

Iwai walked over wordlessly and waited for further instructions.

“Would you stay back a few minutes? The school board’s Vice Chairman Kuganuma is on his way and wants to meet you. I can give you a note for your next class, don’t worry about it.”

Iwai nodded in acknowledgement and stood outside in the hall where he was told to meet his visitor.

 

He scratched at his hands hands and fidgeted. He hadn’t been standing outside a whole minute but he found himself nervous already. Someone walked past him into the classroom. The next class would show up soon. He would be late for his next class. He had a note but he would still be late. He heard a noise from the room which startled him.

“Really? I walked right past the boy?”

The figure who had walked by him appeared. A large man who stood before him with crossed arms and an impatient look on his face. The Vice Chairman?

“You’re Iwai Takuto?”

“Y-yes sir,” Iwai answered, both afraid to look at or away from him.

“I didn’t even notice, you should speak up,” he said. “I’m Vice Chairman Kuganuma.”

Iwai wanted to fade into the wall behind him under this man’s gaze. He settled for pressing himself as close to it as he could and holding the palm of his hand against it to steady himself. 

“You do realize that you received a platinum paper because of your obvious talent as an artist?”

Even if the words could be taken as praise, there was nothing warm about the way this man spoke. He sounded annoyed at having to point out the obvious to some clueless child.

“I...yes sir.” 

“But you’re not even part of the art club.”

“N-no sir. I’m...not.”

“Why not? You could be doing projects for this school. And you haven’t entered any of the contests in the fields you have talent in.”

“Fields?” Iwai’s brows furrowed. What did he mean?

“Your portfolio, your school file. You’re good at many different mediums but you haven’t entered a contest within the last year.” 

“I just-”

“I want you to create a work for the front office.”

“A...a work? You want me?”

“Yes. I’ll contact you with details.”

“Me?”

Kuganuma scowled, “Just do another woodblock print or something. You could be a famous artist but you’re just an average student too.” The scowl morphed into a smirk. “This is your chance to do more than just exist here,” were his parting words before he turned his back to Iwai and walked off. 

 

Iwai wanted to allow his knees to buckle under him, his hands shook. A crowd of students filed past him into the classroom. He needed to get to class...just as soon as his legs remembered how to work. He clenched his fists, hoping his hands would stop shaking. He wished he had Shinomiya’s hand to hold. He missed Shinomiya. But despite the ache it left in his chest he was trying not to cling to his friend anymore than he already had made habit. He had politely declined Niwa’s lunch invitation a couple of days in a row and now the larger boy was insistent. Maybe it was his idea of “keeping an eye on” him (as Iwai suspected Shinomiya had asked as a favor.)

 

Finally, Iwai submitted and found himself a corner of the lunch table Niwa and his friends occupied.    
He wasn’t hungry, he just wanted to distract himself. So of course he would end up sketching Shinomiya.

At least he lost himself in it. At least it brought him some comfort if additional ache. He was gone to   
the subtleties of layering Shinomiya’s hair when a voice burst his bubble of focus.

“Drawing your boyfriend again?” Niwa teased.

Iwai shook in surprise, he clutched his sketchbook against his chest and tried to shrink into himself. 

“N-no...no, he’s not!” he cried, sounding terrified, “I’m sorry! It wasn’t supposed to be...”

“Whoa, easy there,” Niwa said, trying to reassess what to do. 

Suddenly Iwai was aware of all the eyes on him. All of those boys, looking at him, he’d made such a scene.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Niwa tried.

“What did you just do to him?” someone asked.

“I didn’t do anything!” Niwa said, “right Iwai?”

Eyes on him...Iwai felt his chest tightening. He caught Nakajima’s eyes. He felt cold and confined under their stare. His breath came in shorter and sharper pants. The boys were whispering about him, he couldn’t make out words but he caught their accusing looking, the overlapping words which must be condemning him.    
He was nothing without Shinomiya was he? Those cold eyes were tearing into him. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Nakajima scoffed.

Takuto clutched his sketchbook tighter and fled.

 

Niwa stood there, dumbstruck and motionless, “what just happened?” he muttered to himself.

He’d seen Iwai terribly shy, quick to panic and easy to embarass, but had he overlooked something or done something he shouldn’t have? By the time he realized he should follow him, Iwai was out of sight. But Niwa was fast. He caught Iwai just within sight and managed to follow him to the dorm. He’d been locked in his room for a couple minutes by the time Niwa reached it. He knocked loudly.

“Iwai?! I’m sorry!” was all he could think to say. 

No answer, only a faint noise. Niwa listened carefully and his urgency increased when he realized the sound was sobbing. He knocked harder.

“Iwai!”

 

Those marks leftover on his arm were so ugly, Iwai thought. A line of light raised stripes down his arm. It wasn’t used to cuts anymore, he hadn’t done that in a while. Not since he left home. It was the most coherent thing he had or would think for a while in his mania. Mostly he wasn’t forming real thoughts. He was all action as he found his razor, ripped off his shirt, collapsed into a hunched over heap on the floor, sobbing all the while. His breath came in choked pants, hot tears forming and flowing down his face. In some vague, peripheral awareness he knew someone was calling him. But it didn’t matter. It might matter, but only later when someone had to fix the hinges on his door.

 

Niwa kicked the door in and rushed to the pile Iwai had become on the floor. He didn’t think when he saw the state of the artist, just grabbed the hand with the razor in it and shocked him into something closer to consciousness. Iwai was bleeding, it wasn’t that deep but it ran in streaks over his arm and stained the side of his grey under-tee.  

“Iwai what did you do?!” he cried looking around frantically. 

He settled for Iwai’s own uniform shirt, he could apologize later, he figured and pressed it to the bleeding arm. Iwai cringed at the sting of fabric against the fresh cuts but he had no energy to fight Niwa. No, certainly not someone as strong as Niwa, if he’d been calculating enough to think that. Mostly he was just tired. His body was still shivering with little sobs when he realized Niwa had left his side only to return from the bathroom with a couple of towels. He noted that one was damp as Niwa tried carefully to clean his arm.

 

With a shaking right hand he took the damp towel and patted down his left arm. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Why did you...” Niwa breathed.

“I’m sorry.”

“We need to get you to the infirmary,” Niwa insisted.

“I have bandages...”

“ _ Iwai? _ ”

“They’re in the cabinet in the bathroom.”

 

Niwa didn’t say anything else but looked at him with pained surprise as he returned to the bathroom.

Bandage wrap in tow, he set himself down next to Iwai again and helped him wrap his arm. He suddenly realized that there were torn and discarded bandages already on the floor.

“Iwai, what are...” he couldn’t figure out what to say.

“I’m so sorry.”   
As a new wave of soft sobs overcame Iwai Niwa pulled him in so that his arms pressed Iwai’s own arms against the artist’s side. He tried to be careful and was suddenly grateful that no one was in the dorm midday. Iwai could cry as he pleased. 

 

“You  _ have _ to go to the infirmary,” Niwa insisted, once Iwai was calm. 

“No, it’s fine.”

“It’s not. Besides, I broke in your door, we need to get that fixed or you can’t stay in here tonight.”

“I can’t,” Iwai squeaked.

“Someone’s gotta look out for you, what’s Shinomiya gonna say?”

Oops.

 

“No!” Iwai cried and jerked backwards. “Please, no, he can’t! Shinomiya can’t know!”

“What?”

“Please Niwa,” Iwai looked like he might cry again. “Please don’t tell him.”

“Okay, but the infirmary. How about if we explain you had a panic attack and I broke your door and you need some place to rest for now?” Niwa bargained. “That we took care of it, but you went just to be safe? C’mon Iwai.”

He let the bear of a boy take his hand. 

“You can get changed first, I can leave or-”

“I can use the bathroom to change,” Iwai said. 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

Iwai changed into a clean undershirt and grabbed the brown sweater from the bed, pulling the sleeves down as far as he could. It was an imprudent thing to do with someone else’s garment, but he didn’t think about it much, it was habit now. 

“I’ll take care of this,” Niwa said, picking up the bloody laundry, “after, okay?”

“Thank you so much,” Iwai said it like another apology.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re a better friend than I deserve.”

“Nah, you do.”

“You are a really good friend.”

“You wanna tell Hide that for me?”

_ Hide? Nakajima? No. _

Iwai most certainly did not want to say anything to Nakajima.

 

It must have been clear on Iwai’s face because Niwa laughed it off and told him to forget it. Niwa left him in the infirmary with the promise to come get him as soon as his door was fixed and the reminder:

“Shinomiya’s coming back in a couple days. Just think about that.”

  
  


“Geez kid,” Itori said. “Third freakin’ place,  _ nationally. _ Congratulations.”

“You too, Itori-senpai. Sixth nationally is a big deal as well.” 

“Shut up and go call your family or something. Wasn’t that what you were gonna do as soon as we got back to our room?”

“Oh, thank you for reminding me.”

 

“Hello?”

“Iwai?” He must have  subconsciously called him instead. Peripherally he knew that Itori has noted that he just said “Iwai” instead of something like “Mother.”

“Shinomiya?” the voice on the other end is breathless. “Shinomiya, how are you?”

“I came in third.”

“Third?...Third  _ nationally _ ? That’s amazing! You’re amazing.”

“I’m?...Well I...I had to call you so that you know first.”

Silence for a moment and then: “thank...you...Shinomiya.”

“Iwai? Are you alright?” the artist's voice sounded strained.

“I’m okay.”

“Iwai? Are you...are you crying?”

“Shinomiya....I’m...happy.”


	7. .......

“You should look out for Iwai,” Niwa had messaged Shinomiya on his trip back. Not a greeting, no questions about the trip or competition, but a point blank decree.

“Did something happen?” Shinomiya asked immediately.

“I don’t really know, ask him.”

 

The archery club however gave Shinomiya a much warmer greeting, Hanabusa stating that they needed to have a party to celebrate he and Itori’s victories. Hanabusa was quick to find him and shower him in congratulations, even as he and Itori arrived back on campus, but Shinomiya excuse himself quickly, offering a polite apology. He simply had to see Iwai.

  


Iwai heard a knock on his door. He wondered if it were Niwa checking in on him again. He’d promised not to make a big deal or talk about what happened but he seemed concerned. Iwai wasn’t used to someone checking on him, at least, besides Shinomiya now. He stood and sighed as he reached for the door handle, expecting to have to reassure Niwa that he was fine. He opened the door and froze.

“Shinomiya.”

He wanted to sink to his knees and thank the gods for his friends return.

“Shinomiya...I...”

“May I come in?”

“Oh! Yes,” Iwai moved aside to let him and and closed the door behind them.

Shinomiya turned to face him and Iwai met his stare. They stood like that, awkwardly for a moment. Iwai bit his lip and suddenly shoved himself forward to hug Shinomiya. The other boy was surprised but returned the hug readily. He laughed but didn’t say anything else. They simply stood there in the embrace. He realized suddenly that Iwai was wearing his sweater.

 

“You like this thing?” he asked and tugged the back of it very gently as they parted.

“Yeah...it’s soft.”

Shinomiya hugged him tighter before properly letting go, he was still so thin. He seemed so fragile, Shinomiya just wanted to hold him again...wait, what?

“What happened while I was gone?” he asked.

“What...what do you mean?” Iwai responded, perhaps a bit warily.

“Niwa said to ask you what happened?”

Iwai’s eyes widened, he tensed, “what did Niwa say?”

“Nothing else, just that I had to ask you,” Shinomiya said, now visibly worried. He sat Iwai on the bed and took his hand. He still had those bandages on his arm, Shinomiya noted briefly.

 

“I got really upset and ran away when Niwa invited me to lunch,” Iwai skimmed. Shinomiya didn’t need to know that Iwai couldn’t stop compulsively drawing him.  

“What happened?” Shinomiya gently prompted.

“I met the school board’s Vice Chairman...Kuganuma.”

“Oh, yes, I think I’ve met him,” Shinomiya tried to remember the man and recalled a vague intimidating figure. He had an inkling of where this was going.

“He wants me to create a piece for the front office...I guess I really haven’t done anything to be here at Bell Liberty.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t do anything. I haven’t done anything to belong here.”

“Did he say that?” Shinomiya growled.

Iwai didn’t answer.

“Iwai? Did he? Because you do belong here.” _With me._

“But he’s not wrong. I haven’t done anything at all, and I’m not even a good student.”

Shinomiya squeezed his hand, “you are! You work very hard.”

Iwai leaned closer, how good it would feel to be in his arms again.

 _I belong with_ **_you_ ** , Iwai thought.

“Congratulations, by the way,” he said softly.

“Oh, thank you,” Shinomiya had to turn his head a bit, with Iwai’s on his shoulder.   
“By the way, Hanabusa-senpai wants to have a little party for me and Itori and asked if you could come.”

“A...party?”

“I think it will just be the archery club. I know big get togethers aren’t your thing, but I thought it might be nice if we spent more time together tonight? Apparently Hanabusa organized this without telling us. I guess it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, he said they’ll serve dinner, have you been eating properly?”

Iwai didn’t answer that either.

 

The party was set up in the small archery club room by the dojo. Iwai found it a bit cramped but as long as he was by Shinomiya’s side he wouldn’t complain. He didn’t know all the archers by name even if by now, everyone looked familiar and they recognized him as Shinomiya’s friend.  He hung back and listened as Shinomiya described the competitors he seemed to revere and commented how one or another reminded him of a clubmate in stance or personal details like looks.

 

Iwai went to get a drink and surveyed the cups. He couldn’t quite figure out what the mixture was after a sip but it tasted sharp and sweet with an immediate burn. He made a face and heard a laugh right next to him.

“Careful there, never had a wine cocktail?” Crash asked.

“Wine?” Iwai whispered in surprise.

“Well,” Crash winked, “not as much as we let the boys think it has.”

Iwai looked at him, “you’re...you’re not one of the archers are you?”

“Nah,” Crash said. “I’m Hana-chan’s.”

“Hana?”

“Hanabusa?”

“Oh.”

Why was this boy talking to him? Maybe he realized that Iwai was also not an archer. It seemed not many other of the boys had brought someone along. There were only a few people he didn’t recognize as archers, now that he thought about it.

“You’re his?”

“Aren’t you Shinomiya’s?”

“I’m Shinomiya’s?” His what, exactly?

 

“Aoi, are you teasing the little lost artist?” came Hanabusa’s voice.

Iwai had consumed only a sip of the cocktail but he really wasn’t sure what was going on or what the content of the conversation he’d just had was.

“He didn’t do anything,” Iwai muttered.

“Well you’re lost aren’t you?” Hanabusa asked kindly. He was always very nice to Iwai.

 _Yes. I have no idea what I just talked about_. “Um, lost?”

“Separated from Shinomiya,” Hanabusa winked.

It wasn’t as if the room were big enough to lose someone in, nor as if the club were particularly large.

“You getting him a drink?”

Iwai sniffed the cup again in response, “this?”

He was not a fan of overly sweet nor burning tastes.

“Yeah, that.”

“I don’t think Shinomiya drinks.”

“You know him pretty well, don’t you?” Hanabusa’s expression was almost mischievous, but he didn’t mean it teasingly. There was something quite genuine about how he regarded Iwai then tossed a glance towards Shinomiya.

“I don’t know if Shinomiya _knows_ ,” Hanabusa laughed. “He’s pretty innocent still.”

“Hey, one more kid we haven’t ruined yet, babe,” Crash grinned. He looped a hand around Hanabusa’s waist and Iwai was suddenly more certain of what he and Crash had been speaking about before.

 

 _I_ **_want_ ** _to be Shinomiya’s_.

 

“You don’t look too excited about your drink,” Crash observed.

Iwai shook his head and set it down.

“Um,” he said. “I’m...” but he let the rest of the words die on his tongue. The couple wasn’t looking at him anymore anyways. It had taken them but a moment to become lost in each other. As far as he could tell they hadn’t exchanged any words, just stares, before Hanabusa led Crash to what looked like an out of place couch. To his surprise, Crash draped himself over Hanabusa, settling himself nearly in in his lap. The others seemed to notice but stopped paying attention quickly.

 

No, Iwai might be Shinomiya’s friend, but he wasn’t Shinomiya’s _like that_.

 

He realized he must have been standing there, possibly staring (at that point, just into space) when Shinomiya came over.

“Did something happen?” he asked. “You didn’t come back.”

“Oh, sorry,” Iwai let Shinomiya take his hand.

“Are you alright?”

 _No. Seeing this hurts because I want that to be us._ “Yeah. I think I’m just tired.”

“Sorry Iwai, I know how easy it is for you to get overwhelmed.”

“No, it’s okay. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Some of us are going to the baths before they close, do you want to?”

Shinomiya....baths. Shinomiya in a towel. Shinomiya _withou_ t a towel. Oh and...Iwai pulled at the brown sweater sleeve, dragging it further over his left wrist. He couldn’t. For many reasons, but this was a reason he absolutely could not get around. The bandages he could claim were just fresh from taking care of his accident, but that had been over a week and a half ago as far as Shinomiya knew.

“I...can’t.”  
Shinomiya wasn’t surprised but just the slightest bit disappointed with the answer. He gave Iwai’s hand the second reassuring squeeze that day, “it’s okay.”

  


Crash bid them goodnight as they parted for the baths, leaving Hanabusa with a quick kiss and received one in return before the Captain followed the others. Shinomiya sighed as soon as he sank into the hot water, just what he needed after today.

“Oh hey,” Hanabusa observed, “your little artist friend isn’t joining us?”

The usually observant Captain had other things on his mind that evening before he noticed that Iwai had left. Shinomiya blushed at remembering his thoughts when they’d entered the bath. It would have been nice if Iwai had surprised them, had been waiting for them. Gotten up to greet Shinomiya as he’d once seen Hanabusa greet Aoi. Water dripping off him as he stood and approached with a smile.

 

“Shinomiya? You there?” Itori asked.

Shinomiya shook his head to clear the thoughts of Iwai’s long, bare legs, how thin he must be, his skin under Shinomiya’s hands.

“I...yes, sorry. What were you saying?”

“Did you miss your friend while you were away?” Hanabusa grinned. “Did you miss us too?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Itori said. “We both did.”

“So no Iwai?” Hanabusa clarified.

“Not tonight, I think it was too much for him,” Shinomiya answered.

“Probably better without him, whatever” Itori grunted, earned a few heads turned his way.

“Why’s that?” Shinomiya asked.

Itori shrugged.

“Itori?” Hanabusa prompted.

“It’s nothing, just,” Itori cast a side glance and Shinomiya. “I mean, we’ve all seen how he looks at Shinomiya.”

“What?” Shinomiya said.

“Is that a problem though?” Hanabusa asked casually.

Itori shrugged again, “I dunno, kids like that who just stare...it’s a little creepy.”

“Iwai’s hardly intimidating,” Hanbusa chuckled. “Now that Nakajima boy, there’s a scary first year.”

“Don’t talk about him,” Itori said suddenly.

“Wha? Did he do something wrong?”

“That karate kid? Yeah, he’s scary,” Itori agreed instead of answering.

“But you must admit that shy little artist isn’t really,” Hanabusa insisted.

Meanwhile Shinomiya looked back and forth between them, rather confused.

“Iwai?” he asked.

Itori and Hanabusa looked at him then each other.

“Maybe Shinomiya is _why_ he’s not here,” Hanabusa giggled, looking mischievous.

 _Me?_ Shinomiya thought.

He suddenly remembered Iwai’s new habit of pulling the sweater sleeves far down into his palms and the bandages on his arm. He remembered how thin Iwai had felt under his hand and then the feeling of his hand pressed against the stunned artist. Was that what the Captain meant? But he wouldn’t tease Shinomiya like that after being someone to confide in, would he?

“Hey, Shinomiya,” suddenly the Captain’s tone was a bit more serious. “Is something wrong?” he noted Shinomiya’s frown and how the younger archer seemed to be lost in thought.

Shinomiya shook his head, “no, it’s...”

“Hey sorry,” Hanabusa said. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, it’s...I’m just worried about him.”

 

Unfortunately, Iwai was not the end of Shinomiya’s worries. The next afternoon he checked his phone to find a missed call from his mother. She probably knew that he didn’t use his phone during class but he checked it regularly as practice. He looked at the time stamp, it _had_ been when he was in class. Wouldn’t his mother be at work? She’d left a message:   
“ _Sorry to call you during class hours. Call us back when you get out_.”

 

He froze. Instead of heading toward the archery range he called back immediately.

“Koji?”

“Mother?” he said, trying not to panic. “What happened? Is Ryou okay?”

“He got sick again, he’s in the hospital...hey, calm down sweetheart. Ryou’s gonna be okay, a round of antibiotics, you know how it is.”

“I do,” Shinomiya answered, forcing himself to breathe slowly. _No need to panic_.

“He’s with a nurse right now, but he’d love to hear from you later. Don’t worry.”

“But it’s the first time this has happened in a while...did I... that cold? Mother did I get him sick again this badly?”

“I told you it isn’t that bad,” his mother replied calmly. “And it’s not your fault. It happened after he went back to school. You know how your little brother is, nothing will stop him from over-doing it.”

“I do know...”

“Is it okay if he calls you tonight?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll tell him, love you, I need to go.”

“Love you too, bye.”

  


“Shinomiya?” Hanabusa called, when the younger sank an arrow far from the centre of his target. To an untrained observer, Shinomiya was still a good archer that day, but compared to the skill level the other archers and Iwai were used to seeing from him there was something wrong.

“Hanabusa-senpai?” Shinomiya answered.

“Hey, what’s up?” Hanabusa asked.

 

Shinomiya hadn’t been focusing that day. Iwai watched him when the Captain called him over. Obviously, Hanabusa had noticed too. When Iwai first saw him at the range there was something off, he managed to help set up with the Captain but Shinomiya was distracted before he’d picked up a bow. Iwai noted the Captain and Shinomiya had moved away from the others, still talking. It ended with Hanabusa’s hand on Shinomiya’s shoulder, they both looked in Iwai’s direction at the table on the plateau above the range.

Shinomiya was heading over to him. All he could do was stare as his friend approached.

 

“Hi there.”

“Shinomiya?”

“Yes?”

“Is something wrong today?”

Shinomiya sighed and sat down next to him, rather close at that. He looked down before looking at Iwai.

“I don’t...” he started.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” Iwai said.

“No, I...I can tell _you_. Only you.”

Iwai felt his heart flutter at the emphasis. Him. Only him.

“I’m worried about my little brother,” Shinomiya confessed. “He gets sick sometimes but I talked to my mother today and she said he was in the hospital again. It happens sometimes, but it hasn’t in a while.”

“Oh...” Iwai didn’t know what to say. He reached a hand out and tentatively set it over one of Shinomiya’s own, grateful when Shinomiya intertwined their fingers.

“Iwai?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for listening.”

“You can tell me anything, Shinomiya, I’ll always listen.”

Shinomiya’s hand tightened around his.

“You know,” Shinomiya said, looking him in the eye, “you can talk to me about anything too.”

 

The next morning Iwai still couldn’t shake the feeling Shinomiya’s actions had left him with. Face to face with the archer, Iwai was sure he’d flushed profusely “ _you can talk to me about anything too_...” but he’d been determined to look Shinomiya in the eye. He’d spent so long in his daze that he hadn’t fully registered Shinomiya’s state at breakfast. He’d realized of course that something was still bothering his friend but when Shinomiya still seemed a bit distracted as they took their seats in class it became more obvious.

 

Iwai let his has drift nearer to Shinomiya’s, touching him with only fingertips.

Shinomiya looked up, “hmm? Iwai?”

“Are you alright?” Iwai asked.

Shinomiya blinked, surprised, “am I that obvious?” He sighed, “just didn’t sleep well. Ryou will be alright, I’m just a little bothered about it I guess.”

“It’s okay, it’s normal to be,” Iwai answered.

His heart fluttered again when Shinomiya smiled at him gratefully. That kept happening more and more often. How he even managed to keep breathing when Shinomiya looked right at him, he didn’t know. He was sure he held his breath every time they touched. His eyes would always scan Shinomiya, searching for a sign that his friend recognized any of the symptoms of his lovesickness, in case he needed to flee. It was enough (it had to be enough) that Shinomiya was such a caring friend. It would have to be enough that Shinomiya worried over him eating and sleeping properly and taking care to look neater than he ever would without the archer’s observance.

 

“I was thinking,” Shinomiya said suddenly. “You’re such a good artist, would you draw something for Ryou?”

“M- me?” Iwai balked. “I’m not very good.”

“You’re great, and I think he’d really like it.”

The sudden life coming back to Shinomiya’s eyes weakened Iwai’s unwillingness, “do you really think so?”

“I do. I think he’d love it.”


	8. ........

It had become a frequent thing for them to sit with Niwa and Nakajima at lunch. Nakajima’s mere presence still unnerved Iwai, but he could tolerate him as long as Shinomiya was around. He wasn’t usually very involved in their conversation but he paid attention when he wasn’t otherwise lost in thought. Many times, he’d noticed, the topic of the student council (and what Niwa would do differently) came up, like today.

 

“I mean it,” Niwa said. “Todays assembly is a perfect opportunity to call them out.”

“You’re not wrong, Niwa,” Shinomiya said. “But just how do you plan to do that? You’re not going to do something brash are you?”

Nakajima rolled his eyes, “have you met Niwa? He doesn’t do subtle.”

 

At that moment, Iwai was sure he felt Nakajima’s gaze burning into him. Was this a hint? Was he being too obvious around Shinomiya? Sure, they were sitting close right now but the archer hadn’t noticed right?   
Nakajima did not seem naive to Iwai at all. Niwa might not be paying attention but Nakajima’s cold gaze felt accusing. Iwai fidgeted in his seat, even when Nakajima was clearly looking elsewhere he felt cold. The sensation made him want to press close to Shinomiya. He couldn’t, he realized, that would be too much.   
He just couldn’t.

 

“I um, I’m not feeling so good,” Iwai muttered.

Shinomiya looked up at him as he rose, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just,” Iwai had no idea what to say instead of ‘ _Nakajima’s eyes are boring into my soul and I’m worried you will find out how I feel about you so I need to leave because I can’t handle this._ ’

“It’s okay, I’ll see you later then?” Shinomiya said, saving him from further awkwardness.

Iwai smiled gratefully before he fled as un-obviously as he could manage.

 

Iwai hid in his room the rest of that day, trying to talk himself down from a panic. Why was he getting so worked up all the time? It wasn’t as if the feelings he had for Shinomiya were new. Although, maybe they _were_ becoming more intense. He was missing his other classes, he knew, though it was no lie he was feeling ill. His nerves were twisting his stomach into knots. At least he wasn’t lying to himself, wasn’t that better? Or were guilt-inducing dreams that he secretly so loved just making him feel worse?

 

He _wanted_ Shinomiya, to hold him close, to touch him in ways he hadn’t really wanted of Tori-chan.

Even if he’d told her yes. He remembered it very clearly.

“ _Takuto, is it okay_?”

“ _Yes_.”

She’d kissed him again. She had been so warm and soft. Touched him gently, held him close.

She said she loved him.

He could hear her voice in his head even now.

“ _I’m ready to grow up, will you with me?_ ”

Wasn’t that how he wanted Shinomiya to touch him? Except that he wanted all of Shinomiya. He imagined the kisses and caresses and crawling into bed to fall asleep in his arms. Hadn’t Itori been a warmth and comfort too? Hadn’t he trusted her?

 

“Did I love her?” he whispered to himself. He’d thought so. He’d _said_ so, but now it seemed like he’d only spoken it as a response out of desperate need for reciprocal love. So then did he only love that Shinomiya was so kind to him? Did he only love having someone to he could rely on who looked after him? Would he really want to kiss him so badly if that were all it was? Would he get that distracted just from trying to tie a tie because it made him think of Shinomiya’s hands touching his collar? Iwai groaned at the thoughts swirling around in his head and weighing on his heart. This wasn’t helping. Wasn’t he trying to _avoid_ another panic? A knock on the door startled him.

 _That’s not calmer,_ he scolded himself.

 

“Iwai? It’s me,” Shinomiya called.

That would have been Iwai’s first guess anyways. Who else would come see him? Niwa had taken to watching him more carefully it seemed, but the friendly bear of a boy seemed to agree that fussing over him was Shinomiya’s job, not anyone else's.

 

Shinomiya stood patiently as Iwai opened the door to let him in, closing it behind them.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“Better?”

“You said you felt ill at lunch and then you didn’t turn up for the rest of the day. Not even to the assembly. We missed last period because of that so I came to check on you.” Shinomiya said this as if it were the obvious thing to do.   
“Thanks. You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Iwai said.

“But I had to see you,” Shinomiya said as if it were obvious.

Iwai blushed and brushed his long hair into his face to hide it, eliciting a sigh from Shinomiya.

“Why do you do that?” the archer asked, as if he didn’t know.

“Do w-what?”

Shinomiya stepped closer to him, “you hide your face with your hair.”

 

Iwai found himself equal parts mortified and delighted as Shinomiya gently smoothed the light ash locks away from his eyes. He felt frozen but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through him at Shinomiya encouraging smile.

“That’s better,” Shinomiya said softly. “Do you keep your hair long just to hide? It’s really only one of your nervous habits though.”

Even if he had the words, Iwai wouldn’t have been able to argue. His messy waves nearly reached his shoulders. He put an unconscious hand out to touch it where Shinomiya had.

“Do you think I should cut it?” he asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Shinomiya said. “But it’s nice to see your face too.”

Iwai bit his lip and grinned awkwardly at him. They stood there in their somewhat awkward exchange of gazes for a while until Shinomiya broke the silence.

 

“Iwai, I forgot to tell you,” he said, “You missed the assembly. Niwa called out the student council president, accusing him of being the school board’s puppet. There was quite a lot of hooplah but Niwa stood up for the students.”

“He really is a brave guy,” Iwai said.

“It’s a bit of a story really,” Shinomiya added, “maybe we should sit?”

  


Within a week, Niwa had become the new student council president, despite being a first year, and ever by his side was Nakajima as vice president. The school was in a state of pomp and cheer, at least amongst the students. Though young, Niwa was charismatic and a born leader. He had clear idea for the betterment of student life and to repair the corruption of the former president’s state as a mere figurehead for the school board. Around the school, students were even starting to call Niwa the “King.” It was fitting enough, Iwai supposed.

  


“They want you on the student council?” Iwai asked. He stopped eating his breakfast to stare openly at Shinomiya.

“Like I said, they asked if I’d join.”

“Are you going to?” Iwai asked nervously.

“It could be a good learning experience. We’re always at lunch with them anyway,” Shinomiya sighed. He sounded resigned and something else Iwai couldn’t quite determine. Shinomiya looked at the plate Iwai had pushed aside then at the artist, “you should eat properly,” he chided.

  


The next week seemed to go by smoothly for Iwai, considering how much time he and Shinomiya were spending with Niwa and Nakajima as they planned their new student council. Some of the previous members had stayed on but Niwa was looking to make changes and form a team he could trust to make his vision for Bell Liberty come to life. They wanted Shinomiya as both a trusted friend and a gifted mind who happened to be good at organization.

 

Iwai was getting used to Nakajima’s presence. He could focus on Shinomiya. Sometimes he would look at his friend and think that he could do anything as long as Shinomiya was with him. And at least no one articulated the looks he noticed when they’d catch him staring. He wouldn’t be surprised if everyone could read him mind sometimes and berated himself for being so obvious.

 

He’d noticed that Niwa was a bit more careful around him than the boisterous bear of a boy used to be. As far as Iwai knew, Niwa had never mentioned the cutting incident to Shinomiya, but he also knew that Shinomiya wasn’t saying everything he suspected or thought either. Shinomiya had been fussing over his eating habits, straightening his uniform and generally showing protective and nurturing tendencies for most of their months of friendship. He wondered if he was making up noticing that Shinomiya seemed to be paying more careful attention to him since discovering his bandaged wrapped arms several weeks ago.

 

Shinomiya seemed to be paying more attention to his nervous habits, even noticing some aloud. Iwai hadn’t thought much at all about why he kept his hair long.

“ _I like seeing your face_.”

Iwai blushed, keeping his head down as he left this last class. He would meet Shinomiya soon, go to the archery range and go do homework together before dinner. He liked their pattern. He liked Shinomiya always being close by. He craved the moments their hands would brush or when he got swept up in his own emotions and Shinomiya would hold his hand. Such warm hands.

 

The sudden memory of Shinomiya pressed close against him, one hand holding his own and the other the archer had flat against Iwai’s ribs, made Iwai blush furiously and stumble. He hit something solid and to his horror looked up to see that it was Vice Chairman Kuganuma. His fear solidified at the man’s words:

“I was looking for you.”

 

“M--m-me?” Iwai stuttered, looking up.

“Iwai right?” Kuganuma said gruffly.

Iwai nodded slowly, wide-eyed.

“Get up.”

Iwai scrambled off the floor to his knees and reached for the papers he’d dropped but froze when Kuganuma snorted in impatience.  He didn’t dare look up and see those eyes accusing him of worthlessness.

Then another voice: “Iwai?”

That was not Kuganuma. Humiliation washed over him, Shinomiya was there to meet him as promised. There to see Iwai on his knees, frozen and cowering in fear of the Vice Chairman.

 

Something was wrong, that much was clear to Shinomiya. Iwai’s body language was tense and he was trying to crawl into himself even as he reached to pick up everything it seemed he’d dropped. Shinomiya glanced at the man standing above Iwai and felt something surge inside him. The Vice Chairman of the school board? He’d been at the last assembly as well as the entrance ceremony that year.

 

“Vice Chairman Kuganuma,” he greeted in passing. He sank down near Iwai without a second thought and helped him gather his papers and books.

“Shinomiya,” Iwai breathed, his dread eased as his friend’s presence.

“Shinomiya?” Kuganuma asked.

“You’re Shinomiya Koji right?”

“Yes sir,” Shinomiya answered cordially.

“The nationally ranking archer.”

“Yes sir,” Shinomiya repeated. He looked up at Kuganuma but offered his hand to Iwai as he stood.

“Am I interrupting something, Iwai?” Shinomiya asked.

“I came to find Iwai and tell him what a good job he did for the art piece I commissioned for the front office,” Kuganuma said. “And that I have a new request this time.” He was no longer scowling at Iwai.

“I want you to do a piece for the new student council office.”

“Should I talk to President Niwa about that?” Iwai asked, still not quite able to look Kuganuma in the eye.

“I thought I’d ask you myself. You haven’t been looking into contests again like I suggested, have you?”

“No sir.”

“You should.”

“I’m not that good.”

“Nonsense!” Shinomiya interjected. “That picture you drew for Ryou, he already sent me a letter back saying he loved it.”

Iwai looked at Shinomiya, the fear in his wide eyes dissipating under warmth.

“I’ll contact you again later about it,” Kuganuma said and left without another word.

 

As soon as Kuganuma was out of sight Iwai let out a deep breath. He wanted to slump down against the wall and not force his legs to hold himself up.

“Iwai what’s wrong?” Shinomiya asked. Obviously something was. He’d only seen Iwai cower like that when something frightened him. “Did he say something to you?”

Iwai didn’t answer right away.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Iwai nodded.

 

Shinomiya took him to his usual table at the plateau overseeing the archery range. He set their books down in a pile and turned to face Iwai.

“Now will you tell me?” he asked, trying not to sound demanding.

“It was nothing,” Iwai mumbled.

“You looked upset,” Shinomiya said.

“He’s scary,” Iwai admitted.

Part of Shinomiya wanted to laugh fondly but the rest of him remembered his own surge of protective feelings seeing how serious Iwai’s fear had been.

“Nothing happened,” Iwai said again.

“He did seem intimidating,” Shinomiya agreed.

“It was worse than with Nakajima,” Iwai said, he hadn’t meant to aloud but Shinomiya caught it.

“Nakajima?” and suddenly Shinomiya recalled Itori’s defensiveness at the Vice President’s mere mention.

“ _Don’t talk about him...he’s scary._ ”

He noticed Iwai fidgeting as he did when he was unsure or nervous,

“Iwai...” Shinomiya looked at him with a sudden serious expression. “Did Nakajima do something to you?”

Iwai looked startled. He shook his head.

“No, nothing he just...he...looks like he’s always accusing someone when he looks at them.”

 _Or ripping them apart with his eyes._ (He didn’t say that part aloud.)

“What would he accuse you of?” Shinomiya asked.

Iwai pulled at the sleeves of the sweater he’d taken to wearing all the time. It was starting to get too cold for only that, though some days Iwai would wear it under his blazer.

“I..it just feel like he sees right through me.”

Shinomiya watched him scratch at his own nails, so many nervous tells on display right then. He still didn’t understand but he was coming to find these habits endearing. He set his hands over Iwai’s which were tangling around each other for something to do.

 

“And now Kuganuma wants me to do another piece and it took me a while to buy everything for the last one he wanted me to doandhewants...” Iwai’s words sped up until Shinomiya squeezed his hands.

“It does sound like a lot of expectation,” Shinomiya said supportively.

“Even contests...” Iwai muttered.

“I would be surprised if you didn’t win everything,” Shinomiya smiled.

Warmth spread through Iwai again, Shinomiya’s confidence in him meant everything.

“What if you joined the art club?” Shinomiya suggested. “I’m sure they’d be glad to have you and you could use the support and materials they have.”

“I’m...I’m not good with people, you know,” Iwai said.

Shinomiya’s hands left his own and reached up towards his face, he paused a moment, waiting for Iwai to back away or let him continue. When the artist didn’t move Shinomiya gently pushed some of the hair out of his face and behind his ear.

 

Iwai bit his lip, he froze when Shinomiya touched him like this, so carefully, tenderly, like he was soothing a child. Shinomiya’s gentle smile made his heart flutter, if he didn’t go mad from just Shinomiya’s face and touch, surely anything else would send him over the edge.

  
“What if I go with you when you join?” Shinomiya answered.


	9. .........

Joining art club, even with only a third of the year left proved to be easier than Iwai imagined. Especially when Shinomiya mentioned that Kuganuma had just commissioned his friend, a second time. To seal the deal he even convinced Iwai to show the club a couple of sketches. The talent in the drawings of faceless archers and scenery on campus convinced them that this was a boy their club could use. 

 

Iwai found himself mortified when Shinomiya mentioned Kuganuma was pressing for him to get back into art contests. But Iwai’s look of shocked betrayal melted when met at Shinomiya’s look of pride. Shinomiya was  _ bragging _ about him. Shinomiya was  _ proud _ . Of  _ him _ . If he noticed how the club members regarded the way they looked at each other, he pushed it to the back of his mind. He was glowing inside. If he were to paint this feeling he would draw Shinomiya’s face, alight with pride and himself with a light starting in his very center and emanating through him.

  
  


With winter break fast approaching Iwai was spending more and more time in the art room with new projects that he wouldn’t let Shinomiya in on. 

“Sometimes I’m looking into contest ideas,” he admitted. He wanted to say it a bit miserly, for Shinomiya had known he’d been avoiding contests, but Shinomiya would look at him with such proud confidence and encouragement that he couldn’t find the will to be negative about it.

 

As they were packing Shinomiya reminded him to bring colder weather clothing.

“At least a coat,” he said, noting the sweater Iwai wore. It had become so commonplace for Iwai to wear that Shinomiya nearly forgot it was his own. 

“You can keep wearing the sweater but you’ll need something warmer. I see you shivering even with it under your blazer.”

Iwai nodded unable to look directly at Shinomiya as he remembered multiple occasions when he would shiver in the December cold and Shinomiya would pull him close for warmth. It made him never want to stop shivering if Shinomiya would keep holding him close. Every time he would offer a silent prayer of  _ please, never let go _ .

 

Winter break might be busy, but it would fly by, Shinomiya was sure. Though his certainty dwindled when he found himself in a packed airport. He should have been prepared and logically he was to some extent but the sheer amount of time he spent in the masses of people managed to surprise him. He let out a relieved sigh to see that his mother had come to retrieve him from the airport when he arrived. 

“How was the trip?” she asked, after she hugged him.

“So crowded,” he said, laughing it off. 

“That’s what you get for traveling over the holidays,” she smirked. “When Ryou wants you to take his side that he should have been here to greet you, tell him how crowded it was.”

“I was wondering why no one was shouting and clinging to me,” Shinomiya laughed.

“He will be. But at home, no risk of catching something like in these big crowds,” she said.

 

-

 

Iwai arrived home to a welcome surprise of a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. He felt his heartbeat speed up, unsure what he was expecting.

“Mama?” he called.  “I’m home.”

“Takuto!”

The warm greeting, the sight of his mother in an apron, her arms held out to embrace him, Iwai felt warm despite being inside for under a whole minute. 

“Welcome home,” his mother said, squeezing him tight. She touched his face and smiled at him, “your hair is so long, how did I not realize it was getting this long?” She fingered some of the soft ashen tresses. 

“It is,” he agreed. 

“Well why don’t you put your stuff away and then you can catch me up,” she said with a perky grin.

 

“Mama?” Iwai said, returning from his room. 

“Yes baby?” she answered, her apron had new crumbs or something on it.

“Are you baking something?” Iwai asked in tentative hopefulness.

The smell was getting stronger, cinnamon, vanilla, his mother was so good at cooking when she felt like it.

“It’s a surprise,” she said with a  wink, “but they should be ready soon.” 

She watched him push aside some clutter on the couch before sitting.

“I meant to clean up before you got here but I didn’t get to,” she said.

“It’s fine Mama,” Iwai said. “I can clean up.”

Really, if she’d gone through the trouble to be home and cook for them, it was the least he could do.

 

-

 

“Is your room cleaner than usual, Ryou-chan?”

The youngest Shinomiya looked up at his brother with a widespread grin, “yessss.”

“And do you want me to ask you why?”

Ryou nodded.

“Alright, why is your room so clean Ryou?”

Ryou’s grin turned simultaneously impish and a bit shy, “stay here with me?” 

Shinomiya blinked, “I’m staying here all winter vacation,” he said.

Ryou pouted and shook his head. “No. In here. With me.”

 

Shinomiya watched as his brother took the suitcase handle from him and pushed it beside his own bed.

Ryou sat down on his bed, “you’re gone all the time,” he grumbled.

Shinomiya’s face softened he and he moved to kneel in front of his brother.

“Ryou-chan,” he said, placing his hands on Ryou’s shoulders.

“Why can’t you stay?” Ryou asked.

Shinomiya brushed some of Ryou’s hair from his eyes and kissed his forehead. 

“I have to keep going to school,” Shinomiya reminded him. “But I’ll keep coming home, I promise.”

“Promise?” Ryou repeated.

Shinomiya wound his little finger around Ryou’s, “yes. Ryou, I promise.”

  
  


Winter break did indeed fly by. Before Shinomiya knew it, it was Christmas and his family gathered together to open gifts. He reached for the blue paper wrapped package, remembering his promise with Iwai that they would save each other's gifts to open with everything else. Iwai had been speechless when Shinomiya had given him the little package. He looked like a sweet lost creature Shinomiya had just given a home. In that moment he wanted to scoop him up and keep him close. He settled for surprising Iwai with a tight hug, reminding him to bring back a proper coat. He’d been holding the present Iwai had just given him and promised to save it as they parted. 

 

“Koji,” someone said.

Shinomiya realized his parents and brother were staring at him. 

“You sure looked spaced out there,” Ryou said. “What’s that?” he pointed to the present.

Shinomiya smiled at him, “remember Iwai who did that sketch for you?” he asked.

He saw his father’s eyebrows raise.

“He said this was for us, me and you Ryou-chan.”

Ryou clambered to his side as he unwrapped the gift and gasped softly. 

“It’s...us...isn’t it?” Ryou asked, sounding serious. 

Shinomiya was captivated, on the canvas were two figures standing under a firework lit night sky. The colouring and detail amazed him. Clearly, despite the darkness, it was he and Ryou. Just from pictures and recounts of Shinomiya’s summer, Iwai had recreated the night Shinomiya and Ryou spent laughing and having fun together before Shinomiya had to leave home again. 

 

He turned his head to see his own wonder reflected in his brother’s face. He dropped an arm around Ryou and pulled him in closer. 

“Your friend made that for you?” his mother asked. “Would you let your grandparents see?”

Shinomiya nodded and passed the painting to his grandfather.

“What’s his name again, Koji?” his mother prodded.

“Iwai,” Shinomiya answered. “Iwai Takuto.”

 

-

 

“Takuto?” his mother said, eying the package in his hands. “What’s that? You’ve been staring at it for a long time now.”

“Oh this,” Iwai said, still staring at the package. He hadn’t dared open it. The mere understanding that Shinomiya was giving him a present, something tangible that he’d chosen, had made Iwai weak in the knees where they stood at the front of the school before parting. He’d been surprised but so grateful and happy that Shinomiya had hugged him. He had accepted every slow advancement of their casual yet somewhat intimate touches as Shinomiya initiated them.  

 

“I made a friend at school, Shinomiya,” Iwai said. He turned his attention back to the package. It was an envelope, rather than wrapped so he opened it and reached inside to find out what the content was. Anything from Shinomiya made him happy but it seemed like Shinomiya had put thought into the little book Iwai held. A special, small and easily portable, multi-media sketchbook. Something he could carry around like he did his others. 

 

“You made a friend?” his mother asked mildly.

Iwai perked up at her sudden interest. 

“And he got you a notebook?”

“Yes. Shinomiya has been so kind to me. He’s popular and a nationally ranking archer but he still spends time with me,” Iwai said warmly.

“A nationally ranking archer? My, your school really is for talented kids, isn’t it?”

“He really is amazing,” Iwai blushed. “He even helps me with homework.”

“He knows you paint?” his mother asked eagerly.

Iwai stopped and looked at her. He swallowed and shook his head, “I...I don’t really paint anymore. I like to sketch sometimes. Mostly just the archers.”

“Oh, well that’s nice,” she answered.   
  


Iwai spent the leftover days that year cleaning the apartment, (it wasn’t that bad really, just two bedrooms, a bath, a kitchen and a dining table across from the couch,) and baking with his mother. He smiled each time she did, no matter if it were because she had tapped his nose and dotted it with flour or whether she was admiring her new bracelet. A present. Iwai suspected it was from his father. He smiled anyway because his mother did.

 

When midnight turned one year to the next, Iwai thought of how nice it would be to kiss Shinomiya. Instead, he would email  him a happy birthday in the morning. 

 

‘ happy birthday Shinomiya, I hope you had a great christmas and aren’t too busy with the shrine.   
-Iwai ’

 

As Iwai watched the end of his break dwindle away he’d begun some rough sketches in his new notebook. He was comparing a photograph he held to his sketch when he mobile rang. It surprised him because no one else had his number except...He jolted up and scrambled to answer it.

“Shinomiya?”

“Iwai. I’m sorry I didn’t respond before. We get so busy at the Shrine over new years and I didn’t want to call when I was exhausted. That would be rude.”

Iwai laughed softly, always the considerate one, wasn’t he?

“And thank you,” Shinomiya said. “For the painting, my whole family loved it. Ryou and I were amazed.”

“Your...whole family?” Iwai echoed. 

“My grandparents, my parents, Ryou.”

“Did you have a good break?”

“I did, I’ll tell you about it when we get back to school. Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“You sound tired, Iwai, are you eating and resting properly?”

“Yeah, I just,”  _ I miss you so much _ .

“I’ll be glad to see you again.”

 

Iwai thought his heart had dissolved into light. 

“Me too, Shinomiya.”


	10. ..........

Shinomiya lay on his bed facing up at the ceiling. He was happy for some alone time back in his dorm room. He didn’t need much and he missed his family already, but it was nice having a little time all to himself.

Bell Liberty had only been back in session for a few days but already Shinomiya needed a bit of a break. With the end of the year approaching so were exams and goodbyes to graduating friends. He felt like he’d had to land on his feet with so many things happening at once. 

 

The second morning he’d been back, Hanabusa sought him out at breakfast (making sure to greet Iwai as kindly as he ever did the shy artist.) Hanabusa wanted to know if Shinomiya was planning to stay in the Archery club his whole high school career.

_ “It’ll be your first time dealing with all of this and high school finals,” he’d said. “It’s okay if you get overwhelmed, it happens to a lot of kids, especially first year.”  _

_ Iwai watched as he set a hand on Shinomiya’s shoulder. _

_ “I’m here if you ever need anything,” Hanabusa reminded Shinomiya, he glanced at Iwai and smirked a bit. _

_ “So is Aoi if you don’t steal him away from me too much.” _

_ With that, Hanabusa waved and walked off. _

 

_ “He’s very...open...” Iwai said softly. _

_ Shinomiya looked at him a bit confusedly.  _

_ “He clearly really loves Crash,” Iwai clarified, he fought the urge to whisper, certain he was blushing. _

 

Shinomiya blinked up at the ceiling again. Now that he thought about it, he saw Hanabusa and Crash’s love for each other in everything they did. They looked so relaxed and happy in each other’s presence, like they’d settled into a rhythm where having the other person around was so normal it became necessary. When Hanabusa spoke of his “Aoi” his natural charm became iridescent. The gentle way Crash touched him looked second nature to Shinomiya. He wondered what it was like to have someone like to have someone like that. Someone to hold firmly, touch gently.

 

_ Like he did Iwai _ .

 

Shinomiya sat up, with a look of shock. What had he just been thinking?

 

Certainly he cared for Iwai and a great deal at that. He’d greeted his friend with a warm embrace upon seeing him again after the break. They were close enough that he could feel Iwai’s hair brush his face, soft as ever if a bit messy as always.

_ “I’m glad to see you have a coat,” he’d said. _

_ Iwai let go and looked at him with a bashful warmth, “you’re the one who reminded me all those times.” _

_ Shinomiya took him in, Iwai looked as unassuming as ever but genuinely happy.  _

_ “Did something good happen?” Shinomiya asked him. “You look- oh-” the archer interrupted himself and reached out. “Your hair is shorter,” he ran his fingers over a lock of it. _

_ “I cut it,” Iwai said softly, enjoying the feeling of Shinomiya’s touch _

_ “So you did.” _

_ “Do you mind it, Shinomiya?” _

_ “Why would I mind? It’s you.” _

 

_ Shortly after, Iwai had presented him with a late birthday gift. _

_ “I guess having a birthday on New Years when you live at a Shinto Shrine is really busy,” he’d said. “But I hope you celebrated anyway.” _

_ “Iwai...” Shinomiya gasped, he was taken with the picture in his hands. “Iwai this is...” _

_ A detailed charcoal version of Ryou smiled back at him.  _

_ “Do you like it?” Iwai asked hopefully. _

_ “You are amazing. I love it.” _

 

Shinomiya turned on his side, that was enough staring at the ceiling. He reached for the charcoal drawn present he was now keeping at his bedside. Iwai was really a wonder. He seemed to understand what would mean a lot to Shinomiya. The archer found himself weak to Iwai’s humble kindness, he wondered just how deeply he knew his friend in turn. He couldn’t help but feel there was always something weighing on Iwai that he never spoke about.

 

Right before archery nationals he’d confessed to Hanabusa about his worrying over Iwai. He had just barely been sure how to explain finding the boys bandages suspicious, just as he’d had the same trouble when Iwai still had them a few weeks later, so the little he had managed to tell Hanabusa outright was the Iwai seemed to have had an accident.

_ Hanabusa had respondedly quite genuinely; “Of course you’re worried, that boy...he is special to you.” _

_ The older boy waited a in a moment of Shinomiya’s silence before continuing, “so because you care about him you want him to be okay. You want to be able to keep him safe, right?” _

_ “That’s...yes.” _

_ “Right. He seems to care about you an awful lot too, so work hard to bring him back good news.” _

 

Iwai cared about him. A lot. And of course it was mutual.

  
  


Shinomiya sat down in class the next day with a sigh. “Sorry for leaving you at breakfast, Iwai,” he said.

Iwai looked up at him, “is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“You’re getting really busy Shinomiya. The student council has a lot to do.”

Shinomiya sighed again, “all of the sudden, Niwa proposed we should have some sort of valentine's celebration and while at least he didn’t say that at the last minute, we have a lot on our plate with creating independence from the school board.”

“Oh. Did Niwa have something in mind?” Iwai asked.

“I don’t know, Nakajima and I shut him down. We have too much other work to do.  Niwa may be the _ King _ but I don’t know if he was ready for such responsibility. A spontaneous valentine’s event? We don’t exactly have the time by now.”

“Oh.”

“You sound a bit...disappointed?” Shinomiya observed.

“What? I...no. It’s nothing.”

Shinomiya tried to contain a smirk, maybe softhearted Iwai was a romantic. That seemed highly probable. 

“Well,” Shinomiya said, “maybe we’ll do something next year.”

 

But it seemed that Iwai did not have a year, or much time at all before valentine's became subject again. 

Shortly before art club ended for the day Iwai found himself with an unexpected visitor. Technically, art club didn’t have strict times that it met or function together. It wasn’t a team like the sports clubs but the art club members did share resources like art tools, discuss what supplies they needed and sometimes members would do projects together for the school. They also shared information about different kinds of art contests. Anything they could do to bring recognition as a student of BL school was more prestige and reaffirmation of worth for clubs. 

 

The art club members came and went as needed during their free hours, though most clubs met shortly after classes ended and finished for the day with time before dinner.  Though Iwai still mostly kept to himself he’d clearly drawn the other members interest. They greeted him casually and he frequently caught their glances. They seemed content to give him space but he knew that since many people joined the club as a hobby and their talents lay elsewhere, he was one of those they deemed “talented”.

 

Iwai’s guest caught him off guard. He was engrossed in his current carving when he felt a touch on his shoulder. Despite the light gentleness, he made a noise of surprise and turned around, startling the other boys in the room.

“Oh, sorry Iwai, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Hanabusa-san?” Iwai looked up at the older boy, puzzled.

“I left practice a little early, I need to ask you something.”

Iwai glanced around, the other boys had looked their way but were now all refocused elsewhere. Hanabusa’s seriousness surprised Iwai. He was used to seeing the archery Captain entirely smiley and seeming carefree. Iwai managed to nod.

“So I heard you’ve done a couple projects as commissions?” Hanabusa continued.

“Um, just a couple for the Vice Chairman.”

“Well would you consider taking commissions from other students? I’d really like to surprise Aoi.”

Iwai looked taken back, “I’m...I’m not very good. Why would someone-”

“Of course you are,” Hanabusa interrupted. “I’ve seen some of your great sketches and Shinomiya loved that drawing you did for him. Why would the Vice Chairman commission you if you weren’t a great artist?”

Iwai blinked. He didn’t want to think about the Vice Chairman or his reasons for anything.

Seeing Iwai still lacking confidence Hanabusa pursed his lips as he came up with an idea. His smile turned mischievous. He leaned closer to Iwai and whispered;     
“What if I could pay you with a kiss?”

“Wh-wha?” Iwai gasped.

“Oh not from me,” Hanabusa said, speaking up just a little, “from Shinomiya.”

 

Iwai’s ability to think short circuited. His jaw hung slackened, eyes wide.

“Iwai?” Hanabusa asked. He suddenly realized he’d caught the stares of the other art club members.

“Oh dear,” he said, seeing Iwai still frozen. “I think I broke him.” 

  
  


When the archery Captain left practice early for a “special errand” Shinomiya had not expected to run into him as he came to meet Iwai at art club. Hanabusa was leaving as Shinomiya arrived, he smiled and waved to Shinomiya but didn’t stop. Things seemed even more peculiar when Shinomiya arrived in the art room and saw Iwai in a state of shock. The artist had managed to close his mouth most of the way if not completely but his eyes were still out of focus, seeing nothing in particular.

 

“Iwai?” Shinomiya said worriedly. He stood in front of where his friend sat. 

As Shinomiya came into focus before him, Iwai started to regain brain function. Then he realized Shinomiya was standing in front of him. As the sight of Shinomiya came into focus Iwai bit his lip to keep his jaw from 

going any more slack.  

“Iwai, are you alright?” 

Iwai really didn’t know. He and Shinomiya had planned to meet after clubs, now that he wasn’t spending all of his time waiting at the archery range. He liked seeing Shinomiya but Shinomiya seemed proud that Iwai was doing something by himself and he craved Shinomiya’s smile. He craved Shinomiya’s pride in him. Though never as much as he craved the boy himself. Iwai bit his lip harder, teeth digging in.

 

“Don’t do that,” Shinomiya said quickly. 

Biting his lip was a habit of Iwai’s that Shinomiya catalogued along with the artist’s other nervous ticks. 

He’d caught himself recently watching Iwai’s mouth, wondering what his lips felt like. He found himself reaching forward, kneeling. Shinomiya reached up to cup Iwai’s chin, thumb pressing featherlight on his bottom lip until Iwai’s teeth came off it. They didn’t move, Shinomiya kneeling and looking up at Iwai and Iwai seated looking down at him, nearly afraid to breathe. Iwai was sure that his heartbeat echoed loudly through the now empty room. They were alone, eyes locked, lack of breath in sync.

 

What would it feel like if Iwai opened his mouth and let that thumb slip in? He was tempted but frozen.

“Be careful,” Shinomiya said at last. “You could hurt yourself.”

Iwai touched the hand still on his face, Shinomiya’s own moved and threaded their fingers together as their hands fell.

“I saw Hanabusa-senpai on the way here,” Shinomiya said as they stood.

“He asked if he could commissioned me,” Iwai said, hardly above a whisper, but with their close proximity it didn’t matter. “He wants to surprise Crash.”

  
  


Iwai had still been coming to early practice when only Shinomiya and Hanabusa were at the range, setting up. For certain the Captain had been playing favourites all year, but moreso Shinomiya was the only one frequently eager to help him set up beforehand.  

“I want to see what Iwai sees,” Hanabusa declared suddenly, making the two first years turn to look at him.

“I want to stand back and see Shinomiya shooting from Iwai’s vantage point,” he clarified. “You go ahead,” he said to Shinomiya. 

Shinomiya didn’t question anything, simply took his bow and set himself facing a target as Hanabusa came to stand where Iwai sat. 

He crouched beside the artist, “pretty amazing, isn’t he?” he said just loud enough for Iwai to hear.

Iwai nodded.

“Hey Shinomiya!” Hanabusa called. “Go slow! I want to really understand. Show us what a national champion looks like!”

Both of Shinomiya’s spectators could have sworn the boy flushed, but he bowed his head briefly in acknowledgment.

“Do you need a picture of Aoi or something, by the way?” Hanabusa asked suddenly, still crouched but not taking his eyes off Shinomiya. “I’m so happy you agreed. Sorry if I scared you a couple days ago.”

“For your present? Yes, it would help to have a reference.”

“Give me your contact later, I’ll message you a picture.”

“Oh...okay...but,” Iwai hesitated. “I still don’t know what to draw.”

Hanabusa saw that Iwai’s gaze was reaffixed to Shinomiya. He had seen how the artist looked at his junior, watched him with adoration and reverence in his increasingly lovesick stare.  

Hanabusa suppressed a chiding scoff into a chuckle, “well,” he said, “you’re in love aren’t you?”

One of Shinomiya’s arrows plunged into the middle of a target, Hanabusa stood to cheer. 

He looked back over his shoulder at Iwai, “draw what that feels like.”


	11. ...........

Iwai was fixated with his new project. He wouldn’t let anyone in on his new task besides telling Shinomiya that it was something Hanabusa had asked him for. 

_ Draw the feeling of being in love _ , _ what a prompt _ , he scoffed in his head. 

Yet here he had pages of concepts, of bodies in emotional embrace, of a kiss turning someone into light, of internal fireworks and pretty winged creatures, of the sky being offered to the beholder by two cupped hands. Every time he tried to imagine recreating Crash and Hanabusa it backfired. Any image conjured from the concept of his feelings became Shinomiya to him. It only took him three days (one and a half of which he had spent in his room,) to admit that he couldn’t properly create something and tell Hanabusa truthfully that it was for he and Crash. 

 

He found himself annoyed with himself and distressed to the verge of tears when he texted his admission:   
‘ I’m so sorry, I can’t do it . ’   
‘ That’s okay- but why not? Are you feeling okay? ’

Oh, Iwai hadn’t expected a quick and unbothered reply. 

‘ I’m sorry. ’

‘ Is something wrong? ’

  
  


“I think so but he won’t tell me what it is,” Shinomiya answered.

“But you went to see him after he missed Saturday classes,” Niwa said.

“That’s exactly what I said, yes, he seems very caught up in an art project. He gets carried away and forgets about everything else. I had to remind him to eat this weekend,” Shinomiya said worriedly. He looked terribly distressed. In fact, so did Niwa.

_ King of his subjects _ , Shinomiya supposed.

“But you  _ saw him _ ,” Niwa prodded.

“I did-”

“Was he wearing long sleeves?”

Shinomiya looked at Niwa, suddenly puzzled. Come to think of it, wasn’t Iwai  _ always _ wearing long sleeves?

“I mean, did he look okay? He didn’t hurt himself from being tired and not eating?” Niwa grimaced.

Shinomiya hadn’t  _ seen _ any new bandages but that didn’t mean Iwai was alright. He needed to check on him again. They hadn’t met for breakfast that morning and Iwai had been in his room all weekend. He’d mentioned it to Hanabusa when they met for weekend practice.

 

_ “I’ll be late to practice Monday if he’s missing again,” Shinomiya had said.  _

_ “Can I do anything?” Hanabusa asked.  _

_ “I don’t think so, I just need to make sure he’s okay.” _

_ “Don’t worry about it Shinomiya. It’s okay if you even miss Monday's practice. He’s important, right?” _

_ “You’re gonna miss practice?” Itori cut in. _

_ “He’s got some personal stuff to deal with, you know how that is Itori.” _

...

 

He’d ended up messaging Hanabusa between classes that he thought he’d be at least late that day.

  
  


It was the second time someone was knocking on Iwai’s door while he was upset and crying. Given, this time he was not hysterical and he had not found himself pushed to the point of cutting again. There was no blood and his tears were mild. He wiped his face on his sleeve (well, the sleeve of the sweater he had claimed) and answered the door. Had Shinomiya skipped lunch hour or something to come see him?

No. Not Shinomiya.

“Hanabusa-san?”

“Hey kiddo.”

 

Without much thought Iwai stepped back which Hanabusa took as invitation to come in, leaving his shoes near the door. “I brought you food,” he said.

“Oh...thank you.” Iwai really didn’t know what to say. This was not a situation he had imagined. Sure, the archery Captain was quite kind to him but why was he here? Why was he spending his lunch time to bring Iwai food? Had Shinomiya asked him to?

 

“I’m sorry,” was all else he could think to say.

“What? Why?” Hanabusa said, setting down a small bag on Iwai’s paper cluttered desk. “You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Iwai realized Hanabusa was looking at some of the sketches strewn across his desk. Pictures of faceless entwined bodies, kissing figures without distinct features, and just a couple of Shinomiya. Shinomiya holding him, kissing him and turning him into sparks of light, he lurched to cover them, terrified, ashamed. 

“Those were failures. No one was supposed to see!” he gasped.

“They’re beautiful,” Hanabusa said gently.

Iwai stood just a bit less slumped, “I failed. I’m sorry. They kept turning into...” his voice broke, more tears escaped, hot against his face. He was surprised to find himself in a gentle embrace. 

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Iwai wasn’t really sure, but the hold was comforting and loose. He could move out of it with ease at any point, Hanabusa must have intended that, so Iwai only nodded against him.

“They kept turning into how you feel for Shinomiya, right?” Hanabusa said in a soothing tone. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“I love him,” Iwai whispered.

“I’m sorry Iwai,” Hanabusa said as he let go. “I asked something very unfair to you. I shouldn’t have asked you to put your own feelings into it. Don’t worry about it, it’s okay.”

 

“This sweater is his,” Iwai said suddenly. “I wear it all the time and I love him so much it hurts sometimes but I also feel like light.”

 

“I have this blue shirt I like to sleep in,” Hanabusa said calmly, taking a seat at Iwai’s desk. 

Iwai sat on his bed, facing Hanabusa.

“It belongs to Aoi. It’s this plain and faded tee, but it’s really important to us.”

Iwai watched him sigh and pause, Hanabusa wore a look of understanding but also the warmth and love he had whenever he spoke of his boyfriend.

“Most of the time I sleep in it and he takes it home over breaks because he says he hates being apart from me. So I started taking this stretched out black tank of his to sleep in whenever he’s not around.”

Hanabusa seemed so relaxed and serene, he told  Iwai as if it were such a natural thing to reveal.

“So when we leave to see our families we make each other wear the shirt we’re gonna take. When I wake up from sleeping in it, for just a few moments I can forget that I’m not waking up beside him.”

“You always want to be beside him...” Iwai breathed, it wasn’t even a question.

“Always.”

 

Iwai wasn’t sure how long he sat there once Hanabusa left. His eyes hadn't been open very long when he heard more knocking. Was Hanabusa back? Did he forget to say something that he couldn’t simply email?

He opened the door and Shinomiya’s presence brought more of Hanabusa’s words back to him:

“ _ He’ll come around, just give him some time. I think he doesn’t understand it enough yet _ .”

 

“Iwai.”

“Hi, come in.” 

Iwai was glad that he’d cleaned up his desk and his pile of drawings was now obscured by biology papers.

“You look better,” Shinomiya realized. “Have you eaten at all today?”

 

Hanabusa had made sure to remind him of food before leaving; “ _ make sure you eat that. Shinomiya’s been real worried about you...He’ll come around... _ ” 

 

“Yeah. I did...aren’t you supposed to be at archery practice?”

Iwai could have sworn that Shinomiya flushed in response.

“I...I told Hanabusa-senpai,” Shinomiya hesitated, “I needed to see you.”

Maybe that was why Hanabusa had come to see him. Iwai had worried Shinomiya so much that it stood out.

He really was like a caring, responsible older brother, just like Shinomiya.

_ “If you ever need something Iwai _ ,” Hanabusa had told him, “ _ really, you can tell me _ .”

 

“I’m sorry,” Iwai said. “I’m so sorry for worrying you.”

“What have you been doing Iwai?”

“I...I wanted to create something for Hanabusa like he asked, but I didn’t like anything I drew for them.”

“That’s what you got so focused on?” Shinomiya asked.

“Sort of, it’s...I had an idea after Hanabusa-san told me that he and Crash borrow each other's clothes when they’re away because they don’t want to feel apart...they’re really sweet.”

“They do forget anyone else is there,” Shinomiya laughed.

“Is...is that bad? I mean, if they’re in love?” 

“I guess not...I didn’t realize you were such a romantic Iwai.”

  
  


Both Shinomiya and Iwai received valentine’s chocolates that year. Mostly simple friendship chocolates and a couple of anonymous ones clearly chosen with more thought, which Shinomiya had no intention of letting Iwai know about. Iwai for his part received what he assumed was the art club members trying to be nice to him and even a small package from Hanabusa.

 

“It was very nice of him, but I don’t really like chocolate candies,” Iwai said. 

“But you like sweets don’t you?” Shinomiya said, taking his seat next to him. “And chocolate chip cookies.”

“I like bittersweet chocolate too, just, not candies I guess?” Iwai shrugged. “What about you, Shinomiya?”

“I guess I do, but I’m not crazy for them one way or another.”

“Oh, I guess I’ll give them to Niwa or something?” 

“Oh? I bet he gets a lot,” Shinomiya said.

Iwai gave him a small smile, “I bet he eats them all too.”

 

They were both right, Iwai discovered. Niwa had gained the favor and admiration of many students, probably even a handful of crushes as well. He had already consumed multiple offerings by the time Iwai found him between classes. 

“Oh! Niwa,” Iwai said, catching up to him. He blushed to see that Nakajima was wiping some chocolate off of the President’s face and rolling his eyes. 

“Hey Iwai,” Niwa said, grinning wide.

“Stay still,” Nakajima growled at Niwa. “If you insist on eating chocolates at least be less sloppy.”

“You like chocolates a lot?” Iwai asked.

“Who doesn’t?” Niwa smirked. “Besides Hide anyways.”

Nakajima rolled his eyes again but ignored him.

“Um, I don’t really, so you can have mine if you like,” Iwai said, handing him the little wrapped bag.

Niwa’s smirk turned on Iwai and he swore he heard Nakajima sigh in annoyance.

“Oh, for me, Iwai-chan? I didn’t know you felt that way,” he teased.

“N-no, I-” Iwai stuttered, backing up. Before he got no more than a couple steps before he backed into Nakajima. When had he gotten behind Iwai?

“It’s not  _ you _ Iwai wants,  _ Tetsuya _ ,” he sneered. 

Iwai went rigid when Nakajima’s hand cupped over his lower shoulder, he flinched when it slid down his arm.

Niwa scowled, “that’s enough Hide, leave him alone.” 

He took Nakajima’s wrist in his hand and pulled him away, giving away an apologetic look over his shoulder as they walked off.


	12. ............

Iwai did not mention what happened with the student council leaders to Shinomiya but he had one final task before he could ignore the rest of any valentine’s affairs on campus. Now  _ that _ he was looking forward to.    
Mostly no one was making much ado about the holiday, but seeings boys with chocolates, teasing each other about crushes and even a few people who the holiday had brought out a boldness in holding hands as they walked. That shouldn’t have been striking really, he and Shinomiya held hands sometimes, sort of.    
Shinomiya embraced him in greetings or when they parted but Iwai guessed Shinomiya was also like that with his younger brother. Iwai did not want to be his younger brother. Definitely not.

 

Iwai held the little wrapped canvas close to his chest, once he delivered it to Hanabusa he could block out the rest of the hearts-for-eyes air going around the school. It seemed a bit frivolous, he thought as he walked, that people should be more in love or unable to contain it far less now than any other time of year.

Hanabusa and Crash were quite lovey-dovey all the time it seemed.

_ It must be nice to have someone like that _ , Iwai thought.

 

Hanabusa waved at Iwai as he approached, he stood leaning against a podium in front of the library.

“What was so urgent?” he asked when Iwai stopped before him.

“It...it wasn’t an emergency, sorry,” Iwai said.

Hanabusa didn’t seem worried or upset at all though, so he continued, “I...I made this,” he handed over the tissue paper wrapped package.

“Oh, thank you,” Hanabusa smiled, “Iwai, is this?”

“For you and Crash,” Iwai said forcing himself not to mumble. He’d given artwork presents to Shinomiya but only a couple of times and they were equally nerve wracking. 

“Thank you!” Hanabusa beamed. “What do I owe you?”

“Huh?”

“It’s a commision right?”

Iwai blinked, partly stunned. He shook his head, “n-no, just...it’s a thank you. Thank you for taking care of us. Shinomiya and me.”

Hanabusa smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, “open offer, y’know, if you ever need anything you can ask me,” he reminded Iwai. 

Iwai thanked him before leaving him where he said he was waiting to meet Crash. He couldn’t have asked anyone for what he really wanted anyway.

  
  


When Shinomiya asked what he wanted for his birthday, Iwai had not expected his friend to take “well, it might be nice to leave the campus for once and find a quiet cafe that serves coffee cake” so seriously.

But because he hadn’t dared tell Shinomiya “I want you,” he found himself on a bus ride to town with his nearest and dearest friend on the afternoon before his birthday.  

 

“You’ve really never left campus besides vacation?” Shinomiya asked (again.)

“Really,” Iwai answered (again.)

 

The first time he’d reminded Shinomiya how easy it was to become busy. He had  _ not _ reminded Shinomiya that unlike the archer, he lacked other friends who he might go anywhere with on rare occasions they were all free. Iwai had voiced his worry that Shinomiya was prioritizing him over his work because he knew the archer stayed atop of everything by working even over weekends. Shinomiya had in turn promised Iwai that he had worked extra hard to have this day free to spend together.

 

Iwai wondered how much more he could take if he kept feeling like he would melt whenever Shinomiya thought of him. Yet with their casual intimacy and the normalcy they had slowly built, there they sat on the bus, hand in hand, fingers intertwined. He was so used to Shinomiya’s touch, his greeting embraces, but he still shivered at Shinomiya touching his face when pushing his hair out of it, or his neck when adjusting his tie. 

It wasn’t a long ride but by the time they’d stopped Iwai realized that he had been leaning against    
Shinomiya, possibly the majority of the time and Shinomiya seemed perfectly content. Iwai followed without much comment as Shinomiya led them through the city. He didn’t think they’d been walking long when Shinomiya stopped them before a little cafe.  

 

“This is the place you looked up?” Iwai asked as they seated themselves. 

“Yes, I thought I’d spoil you with coffee cake like you wanted.”

Iwai didn’t know how to answer so he simply watched as Shinomiya went to a display case to select a miniature cake. It must have been about the same size as two slices. His eyes widened in mortification when he realized Shinomiya was buying it himself. He wanted to protest but Shinomiya must have seen the angst in him.

“Just for today,” he said, not letting Iwai start, “let me spoil you.”

Iwai couldn’t argue. He gasped and smiled shyly when Shinomiya produced two forks.

“What?” Shinomiya said with a wink, “you’re not eating this all alone are you?”

For several minutes Iwai tried to fight the urge to smile any wider than he was already, so that he could chew.

 

“Oh, it’s so good,” he said in an excited whisper, as if announcing it would bring a flock to steal their treat.

Watching the smile spread to Iwai’s eyes warmed Shinomiya. If Iwai would look this happy he wished they could spend all of their time like this. Come to think of it he and Iwai were together all the time but Iwai did seem happy around him. Shinomiya liked when they were close, when he had Iwai’s hand in his own. He liked the softness of Iwai’s hair and the timid way he smiled from behind it. He loved all of his little habits, even the worrisome ones like biting his lip when he was nervous or thinking. 

 

He was doing that now just barely, collecting crumbs on his mouth with his tongue. He smiled to himself and looked a shy kind of happy when he noticed Shinomiya watching him. 

“What is it?” he asked, meeting Shinomiya’s stare.

“Oh, no, nothing,” Shinomiya answered. “Just you.”

“Um okay...aren’t you going to eat more?” 

“Oh? Do you want it all?” Shinomiya teased, though he would happily give up the rest to watch Iwai.

“N-no! You should have as much as you want,” Iwai sputtered, his panic suddenly assuaged by Shinomiya’s gentle laugh.

“Not at all, you should, it’s  _ your  _ birthday after all.”

“It’s not until tomorrow though.”

“That’s okay,” Shinomiya assured him and took another bite.

Iwai seemed contented and soon absorbed in his treat. So he really liked coffee cake. Shinomiya would make note of that. In no time the artist was back to eating merrily, leaving crumbs over his mouth and Shinomiya was back to watching him. He wondered what the taste would be like and he jolted (not very visibly, thank goodness) at the realization that he wanted to taste Iwai. This boy was his friend, his    
_ best friend _ , but right then Shinomiya wanted nothing more than to find out if Iwai tasted like coffee cake by kissing him.

 

This was new....Wasn’t it? Shinomiya had always enjoyed their physical closeness, the gentle affection that Iwai seemed to eat up. If he’d thought of it consciously he might have considered theirs to be a brotherly closeness, but there was nothing brotherly about how Shinomiya suddenly wanted to kiss Iwai. Suddenly Shinomiya burned to cradle him close and kiss him full and tenderly until neither of them could think.    
Maybe he’d already lost the ability to think. What was this? Shinomiya didn’t even know how to kiss really.

He wondered if he were losing his mind all of the sudden, what would Hanabusa tell him?

 

“Um Iwai-” he said suddenly.

“Hm?” Iwai slowly took in his urgency, “what’s wrong?”

“Hanabusa and Itori said they thought I should be the archery club’s Captain next year,” he blurted.

Well that came out of nowhere, it was true and he’d been waiting to tell Iwai, but he hadn’t expected to use the information in his sudden desperation. At least Iwai hadn’t noticed that.

“That’s amazing,” Iwai gasped, his eyes shone with pride for his friend’s accomplishment.

It was so endearing Shinomiya wanted to grab him and hold him close right there in the cafe.

“Congratulations!” Iwai beamed. He glowed even.

Oh dear, how was Shinomiya going to make it the whole way back to the island?

 

How he did remained a mystery. He sat with Iwai’s soft weight leaning against his shoulder on the ride back without the artist having a clue that when Shinomiya’s arm draped over him and held him, it was the closest to restraint he was managing. Iwai seemed to be in a contented daze, perfectly unsuspecting. Being so close to Shinomiya, being held by him, he wasn’t about to look a (birthday) gift horse in the mouth.

 

“Thank you Shinomiya,” he said softly. “You are so nice to me, this was the best gift ever.”

Shinomiya felt an incredible wave of guilt. He wanted to shove Iwai away and flee but because he still had some of his wits about him and they were on a bus he merely looked away. He wanted to kiss him, even something purely affectionate like the forehead kisses his mother gave as she held Ryou. He wanted to keep holding Iwai and never let go.

  
  


Not longer after, Shinomiya spent a morning contemplating how he did not consider himself possessive but letting go was rarely fun or easy. With just over a week left before the school year ended Shinomiya was feeling nostalgic about attending graduation that day. As his dear mentor Hanabusa had promised to meet up with him after the ceremony. Of course there would be celebrations later as well but it seemed he wanted to see Shinomiya personally. His reminiscence had quelled some of his nerves but he still felt a bit hyper-aware as he sat down beside Iwai. 

 

Shinomiya wanted to reach out and run his fingers through that soft ashen-brown hair. He remembered meeting the boy hiding behind long locks and a notebook, curled into himself in fright. It was the kind of look that made Shinomiya want to care for and protect that boy. Though still timid he felt he’d seen a change in Iwai, seen him grow a bit maybe and peek out of his shell. 

 

It wasn’t that Shinomiya hadn’t been aware of the rest of their morning or the graduation ceremony, not with the whole close-knit student body present. But he couldn’t pull his focus off of Iwai nor what he needed to say to Hanabusa after the ceremony. 

“Shinomiya is something wrong?” Iwai asked noticing that  Shinomiya was trying to contain his  fitfulness.

“I guess I’m just anxious to talk to Hanabusa-senpai after, I didn’t think I’d be so distracted,” Shinomiya admitted. 

“You’ve been kinda distracted for a while now,” Iwai whispered. 

Shinomiya could hardly deny that over the last week he had been acting strangely, especially around Iwai.

Hanabusa had noticed the same thing but Shinomiya hadn’t been able to tell him how badly he wanted to grab and kiss his best friend. When Hanabusa asked how Iwai’s birthday outing had gone, Shinomiya was sure he felt himself blush profusely. He hadn’t been able to give a very direct answer besides “quite well.”

 

“There he is,” Iwai interrupted his thoughts when Hanabusa appeared on the stage to accept his diploma. 

Hanabusa was as bright and shining as ever, Shinomiya understood exactly why he had gained so much respect and adoration. He was a kind and reliable person yet he never managed to seem too serious or severe. He realized Iwai was looking at Hanabusa with the same admiration Shinomiya himself always had. 

Hanabusa had always been kind to the artist but was there much more to them than that?

 

Shinomiya surprised himself, what was this tense feeling? It wasn’t the overwhelming sensation that had loomed over him all week. Though hadn’t it appeared a few times recently? When Iwai smiled at Niwa (even if it was because they were asking about his birthday event with Shinomiya.) Or when Nakajima looked at Iwai a certain way, making him tense and crowd closer to Shinomiya who suddenly regarded Nakajima. 

Shinomiya had  _ not _ liked that look. Had Nakajima always looked at Iwai like that? 

 

He didn’t want anyone to look at Iwai like that. Like they would walk right over him given the chance. 

Shinomiya wondered if he were seeing something he simply never had before or if his emotions were running wild. Knowing that the latter was true however didn’t mean he was wrong, he couldn’t help but suddenly want to keep Iwai close and let no one touch him. Except, maybe, himself?


	13. .............

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's all here now, at least part one ;)
> 
> thank you to Rahenna and Olivika_96 for your support

Before Shinomiya knew it the graduation ceremony had ended. Iwai held his hand tightly as they navigated the crowd of students and visiting family members.

“Where are we going?” Iwai asked but he didn’t think Shinomiya heard him as they wove through people.

Iwai did not like crowds and he heaved a sigh of relief when it was behind them. There were still people around but they were not in the thick of it.  

 

“Sorry, are you okay?” Shinomiya apologized when he realized Iwai was panting a bit. Knowing the boy, it made sense that the closeness of the crowd brought him some distress.

“Y-yes, I’m okay. Didn’t you want to meet Hanabusa-san and Crash?”

“We will, they said they’d meet us on this path,” Shinomiya answered. He led Iwai a short distance more to a bench and let the artist lean on him as they sat. Against his more discreet instincts and by what he’d until recently thought was care-taker like intent, he draped an arm over Iwai and held him just as he had on the ride back to BL school last week. Iwai relaxed against him so easily, so innocent and unsuspecting that it made Shinomiya cringe internally with guilt. Yet he couldn’t let go.

 

Another wave of ache washed over him as he contemplated the two weeks of separation over the end of year break. He must have cringed physically because Iwai looked up at him with a worried expression, but just as he was going to speak another voice spoke instead:

“Oh hey! Are we interrupting something?”  Crash called.

Shinomiya and Iwai exchanged embarrassed glances before looking back to Hanabusa and Crash. Hanabusa elbowed Crash and said something that they weren’t yet close enough for Shinomiya and Iwai to hear.

“Sorry, should we leave you two to each other?” Hanabusa asked warmly.

Shinomiya looked somewhat mortified causing Hanabusa’s expression to falter.

“Shinomiya?” he said.

 

“Um we- I was supposed to meet you after graduation right?” Shinomiya asked. “And Crash came with you?”

Hanabusa seemed confused as if that were obvious, “yeah- we gotta go back to our families soon but Aoi and I won’t have alone time again for a while so that walk away from everyone was nice,” he answered.

Shinomiya looked from Hanabusa to Iwai to Crash and back to Hanabusa.

The archery Captain noticed his nervousness, which was clearly making Iwai nervous as well.

“Shinomiya, can I talk to you for a minute?” he said, it wasn’t a demand but it didn’t exactly sound like a question.

Shinomiya looked at Iwai as if asking that it would be alright to leave him for a moment. When Iwai smiled shyly in answer Shinomiya nodded and stood.

 

Hanabusa pulled him out of earshot, “sorry about that, but what just happened?” he asked.

Shinomiya didn’t know how to answer, or even really understand the question.

“You seemed like you didn’t want us to talk like that in front of Iwai,” Hanabusa continued.

Shinomiya noded.

 

Iwai tried to smile awkwardly when Crash sat next to him.

“Hey, we meant to thank you,” Crash said suddenly.

“Wha? What?”

“That painting you did for us, it was perfect,” Crash explained. “He was so happy I...”

An image flashed through Iwai’s mind, Hanabusa in a black tank with his head in the lap of a blue tee-clad Crash. He’d tried to capture the expression Hanabusa had shown when telling Iwai about their sentimental clothing habits. About how they wanted to always be together. He understood how that felt. His eyes gravitated towards Shinomiya.

“His happiness is yours, right?” Iwai said absently, he wasn’t even looking at Crash.

“You know the feeling well, huh?”

 

Hanabusa gasped softly, “could it be it wasn’t what it looked like?”

“Am I horribly obvious?” Shinomiya asked.

“Well you were holding hands,” Hanabusa replied.

“We do that sometimes,” Shinomiya said, part of him understood exactly how it must look. He must be so transparent.

“It just happened over his birthday, I just can’t tell him,” Shinomiya said. He hated this feeling of being dishonest and weak.

Hanabusa raised an eyebrow at him, “you realized it only just recently?” he asked.

Shinomiya nodded.

“And you didn’t tell him anything?”

Another nod.

Hanabusa’s face softened into a gentle smile, he leaned closer and kissed Shinomiya on the cheek.

“Shinomiya,” he said, as Shinomiya looked at him in shock, “you’re a fool if you’re waiting for that sweet boy to make a move first. And here I thought you’d given him a birthday kiss or something.”

Shinomiya wasn’t quite processing Hanabusa’s words or the fact that he’d just been kissed.

“Iwai...first?”

Hanabusa sighed, “yeah, ask him if he wants a late birthday kiss.”

 

Iwai’s mouth dropped open when Hanabusa kissed Shinomiya.

“He...just...” he spluttered.

But Crash was sitting there grinning still, as if he’d watch Hanabusa kiss a family member, and maybe he had. Just as Shinomiya was a someone who took care of others, Hanabusa had been looking out for him.

“You’re smiling?” Iwai realized, “but...Hanabusa-san just...”

Crash’s grin read something like “me next” as the other two returned to them.

Iwai stood before Shinomiya could sit.

“Aoi, we need to go back,” Hanabusa said extending a hand.

Crash took it as he stood, “see you at the party later?” he asked over his shoulder.

Neither of the first years were quite able to form words.

Hanabusa gave them both a look and kissed Crash quite properly before leading him away.

 

“That was?” Iwai muttered.

“Um,” Shinomiya said.

“What was?”

“Um.”

They stood there in a painfully awkward silence for a moment until Shinomiya burst it by saying, “Hanabusa-senpai practically told me to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Iwai added, “you don’t have to if you don’t want.”

“You don’t?” Shinomiya asked, confused.

“ _I_ do.”

Maybe it was impulse speaking, maybe it was selfishness, but something told Shinomiya that it was enough. He pulled Iwai into him, cupped the side of his face and kissed him. Warm and soft and clumsy but the way Iwai kissed him back just as eagerly was confirmation enough. They both wanted this. Wanted each other.

If he’d been able to think, Iwai would have expected it to be awkward again as soon as they stopped kissing.

He felt dizzy, light-headed and a bit surreal. He might have fainted right then and there if Shinomiya hadn’t wrapped his arms around him. It was as close to crushing as Shinomiya’s careful touches ever came.

“I’m sorry Takuto,” he breathed.

Iwai might have been startled at the use of his first name but it seemed perfect at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Shinomiya repeated. “For making you wait.”

  


_It was only a year_ , Iwai wanted to say. _I thought it would never change and we would just go on like that_.

Instead of speaking he turned his head to kiss Shinomiya’s cheek and wriggle in the embrace to reciprocate the arms around him. He wanted to be kissing him again but if Shinomiya was going to hold him, that was wonderful too.

“Do you want to go to that after party?” Iwai asked suddenly.

Shinomiya stepped back and looked at him, “you don’t like big gatherings though,” he answered. “And I want to be with you.”

Iwai kissed him again, Shinomiya didn’t really know what he was doing but he followed Iwai’s lead.

“I’d go with you,” Iwai said when they parted. “I want to be with you too.”

 

The grounds were noisy and crowded in the various place where food and beverages were set up. Many of the younger students had less to do than the graduating seniors but it did not mean they’d miss out on free food and an unstructured afternoon. Iwai and Shinomiya held each other’s hands firmly as they were again consumed by crowds.

“Hey look who it is!” Niwa called out. “Saying your goodbyes?”

“Don’t you have a list of graduating student council members to say goodbye to, President Niwa?” Shinomiya smiled.

“You do too,” Niwa reminded him.

“But Shinomiya doesn’t forget about everything until the last moment like you do,” Nakajima interrupted.

Nakajima’s sharp gaze took in the other two first years. It wasn’t unusual for them to be holding hands, at least not in crowds but there was something different that unlike Niwa, Nakajima did not miss.

Shinomiya still did not like the way Nakajima’s gaze set on Iwai but for once Iwai seemed too happy to care. He was not cowering against Shinomiya under that cold stare, he was much to warm inside to notice it.

  


They spent the rest of the week like that, lost in each other, unwilling to be apart any longer than they needed to. They kept each other company while packing over the last few days. Shinomiya stood folding Iwai’s clothes (insisting, even after Iwai protested) while Iwai packed them.  

“Thanks again,” Iwai muttered.

“Don’t forget to bring a change of summer clothes when you come back,” Shinomiya reminded him (another of what would likely be many times.)

“Thanks.”

Somehow Iwai seemed to shine even as all he did was arrange clothes in a trunk. Shinomiya couldn’t help staring.

“Takuto,” he said it like he was amazed at a breathtaking view.

His quiet gasp of the name made Iwai turn to face him. He was starting to veer into using Iwai’s first name more and each time Iwai would feel warm and bubbly even if he couldn’t reciprocate it. But he loved the way Shinomiya looked at him, was looking at him right then.

He leaned into Shinomiya’s kiss, inexperienced and brief but sweet. Mostly they got as far as looking at each other, smiling, blushing and looking away but they’re shared a few more kisses and more consciously tender touches. He nuzzled affectionately against Iwai and kissed his temple before returning to the laundry.

 

Iwai froze in mortification when Shinomiya handed him his folded underwear. He snatched the pile it seemed Shinomiya had sorted them into and shoved them under his packed clothing. Shinomiya couldn’t help but chuckle as Iwai blushed profusely. Though come to think of it, Iwai was always completely covered, pants, long sleeves, he never even used the public baths. Shinomiya didn’t find it very embarrassing but they didn’t need to rush anything. He petted Iwai’s hair gently, trying to ease the embarrassment and awkwardness painted all over the artist’s face but decided that carrying on normally would be a better idea, to show that he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

 

On the last night Iwai hung out in Shinomiya’s room while he finished packing and setting aside what he would use in the morning before going home. Normally a straight-laced boy like Shinomiya, known for being so responsible and a stickler for the rules, wouldn’t have it with someone out of their room past dorm curfew. But at the time all he could see through his rose-coloured glasses was Iwai, pj-clad with the brown sweater over them. Shinomiya looked up when he finished and lightly tugged at one of the sweater’s sleeves.

 

“You really wear this all the time, don’t you?” he asked.

Iwai nodded a bit bashfully, “I love it.”

“Do you want to take it home?” Shinomiya asked.

Iwai looked down at the floor, unable to face him. He bit his lip.

“Takuto?” Shinomiya said. “What’s wrong?”

When he spoke again Shinomiya was barely sure he heard it.

“I don’t want to be without you.”

Shinomiya moved to stand in front of him, he wrapped his arms around Iwai and kissed his forehead.

“I wish I could take you with me.”

Iwai’s arms settled around Shinomiya’s waist, even with his head down, Shinomiya knew he was biting his lip.

“Takuto,” he said as he slid a hand under Iwai’s chin to tilt his head up. Shinomiya set his thumb against Iwai’s bottom lip where his teeth were worrying it and kissed him as slowly as his own inexperience would allow.

“What are you suddenly so worried about?” he asked.

“I...” Iwai sniffed.

Shinomiya realized he was crying.

“ _Takuto_?”

“I’ve been so i-i-in love with you I cry sometimes, I n-never thought Shinomiya...” he stuttered. Tears dripped in slow streaks down his face. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Shinomiya assured him. He held Iwai close again, let the artist rest his head on his shoulder.

“I’m here,” Shinomiya soothed as he petted Iwai’s hair, “I’m here. You won’t lose me.”

 

When Iwai could speak again he asked, “can I fall asleep beside you? Please?”

And how could Shinomiya do anything but welcome him when he looked at the boy in his arms with wide wet eyes through his own love-clouded vision. All he wanted was to keep holding his boyfriend....that was what they were, right?

 

He left Iwai sitting on the bed while he changed and brushed his teeth. Iwai loved him. He should have known all this time and worse he hadn’t said it back yet. He’d invited this person he loved who he hadn’t told he loved who had confessed to loving him and who might be his boyfriend...to sleep in his bed. In a rare interval of clearheadedness, Shinomiya didn’t know if he was ready for this or even what he was doing.

He clenched the sink rim and exhaled slowly before leaving the bathroom but realized that Iwai was already curled up in bed. He turned off the light, slid under the covers behind Iwai and kissed the back of his neck as he slung an arm over him.

 

“Thank you,” Iwai whispered.

Shinomiya smiled against his soft hair and kissed it, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> major thanks to [Rahenna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahenna), without her I probably wouldn't have done this


End file.
